Hunting Reasons
by Mikarma13
Summary: Gon has the ability of rapid cellular regeneration - he could heal himself. Determined to find his father who is said to have the ability to copy others' abilities, Gon embarks on a journey filled with adrenaline and danger. Along the way, he met with people he won't mind dying for a thousand times. AU, based on Heroes, a wonderful hit-series.
1. Prologue : The hunt begins

**HUNTING REASONS**

 **Synopsis : All over the world, some people are finding out that they were different than others. Those who deem themselves to have supernatural abilities call themselves hunters. Gon, claiming to have the ability to regenerate, must walk down all types of road before he could meet Ging, the mysterious man who claims to be able to copy others' abilities. Half the way through, he met with people he wouldn't mind dying for a thousand of times.**

 **A/N : This is a HxH fic of mine put in the universe of Heroes – which is a cool show, you should really check it out. Beware of grammar mistakes, typos, OOC and weird pairings. Gon and Killua are about 18 and Leorio and Kurapika are 19. I don't want that huge gap between their ages.**

Prologue

INDESTRUCTABLE GON

"I broke an arm this morning," Gon Freecs said with an underlying tone of unwithering determination as he looked across the table at the red-headed woman he called Aunt Mito. The woman's calm expression shifted into an annoyed frown as she put down her spoon with what she hoped seemed stern.

"Gon, it's the 52nd time-"she said before being cut and stopping into an abrupt halt when her nephew said, "I know. I'm not going to give up this time". The determination burning in the teenage boy's eyes was nothing but terrifying to the red-headed woman, feeling completely vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze. She quickly darted her eyes, opting to pin her gaze on a tiny yellow flower pattern on the table cloth.

She could still feel her nephew's glare burning right through her, but chose to stand her ground once again, like any other times she'd been forced into this conversation. Something in her seemed to hiss with deep pessimism, _You'll lose this time_ , but she shook her head, hoping to quiet down those voices in her mind for once.

"I'll prove it,"he heard Gon said, making her snap her head right up as the teenager reached for a fork and held it with a metal-bending strength. Mito's eyes went wide the moment she knew what her stubborn nephew was doing, but was a fraction second too late in doing anything.

She saw deep red blood spurt out from the wound situated at the back of Gon's hand, swiftly streaming down on the side of his hand as he held the wound up for her to see. As much as Mito hated to admit it, what happened next didn't surprise her – she knew from the very start that her nephew wasn't telling her lies but she refused to believe it, blinding herself with the false hope that Gon was normal.

It was actually pretty impressive – had Mito never have a brother like Ging, he would've been entranced by the sight – in under a second, the wound seemed to fade away like mist when it's getting warm, little by little until it's completely gone, leaving trails of blood already drying away at the back her nephew's hand.

"Does it hurt?"she asked in one of the quietest voice she'd ever heard herself use. Gon flashed his teeth, grinning like the little boy he is – and for a fraction second Mito thought that he was still the ordinary little Gon she'd worked hard to raise. But nothing was ordinary about the teenager before her.

"Yeah, it does. But after a while, I got used to it because it was only for seconds,"he said, still wearing the childish smile Mito hoped could bring her back to the past when it was just her and Gon and no one else. Mito lowered her gaze to the innocent pasta sitting on her plate untouched, hoping that the boy would eventually give up.

"Aunt Mito, please. I need to know what I am," she heard him said. She snapped, looking at her nephew with rage in her eyes as she stood up, hoping it would give her the upper hand she didn't have as there's nothing she needed at the moment more than power over her nephew.

She needed to stop him. He can't leave her. Not after the days she'd spent working multiple jobs in order to keep him eating.

"You're my nephew and nothing else!" she said as she slammed the table angrily. Gon seemed to follow the suit, standing up while pushing his chair away with a loud creaking sound of wood on wood as he easily surpassed the petite woman's height by doing nothing but standing.

Mito looked up with her own look of determination, deciding that she's not giving up tonight. "I know that Ging's different like me,"he said, sending her off guard as she, wide-eyed and mouth gaped, freaked out entirely. Thousands of question formulated in her mind, racing like the adrenaline in her veins, and sticking on her brain like mosquitoes on a spider web.

He knew. She's going to lose him. Mito bit her bottom lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyelids as the back of her eyes stung painfully. "How did you know about him?"she asked with a slightly shaky voice, not even daring to say that damn man's name.

"I met Kite this morning when I jumped down a cliff and he told me about him. He also told me how to find him,"Gon said, eyes seeming to visibly soften as the woman seemed to give up, yet still holding onto the same determination for what comes next.

"I need to find him,"he said with the most intense stubbornness Mito had ever heard coming from the boy. The red-headed woman was fighting the tears to the point that she's visibly shaking, clenching her fists until it's stark white. She knew this would be happening as soon as she woke up that day but she stupidly decided to shake off her instinct, which as long as she'd been living was never wrong.

She kept quiet, lips trembling as she avoided her nephew's gaze. "Mito-" she heard the spiky-haired boy say with a much softer, gentler voice but she pushed him into an abrupt stop as she raised her hand up, tears starting to roll down he cheeks as she looked at the boy. "Just promise me you'll be back," each syllable hurt her as she forced the words out, taking in a deep breath as she told herself again and again that it was the right thing to do.

Gon seemed to be taken aback for a few seconds before jumping in excitement and circling the table to pull his aunt into a hug. Mito hugged the much bigger boy, fingers clenching at the back of his forest green shirt as she told herself over and over again, almost like a chant, _he'll be back_.

* * *

"Indestructible Gon, The Master of Lightings and Electricity and The Bender of Weather," Cheadle Yorkshire said as her deep brown eyes scanned the document, before looking up to see her colleagues trying to digest what she was saying. Most of them looked rather impassive, as if this project was nothing important to them, but a number of them looked skeptic, which she had prepared herself to answer their questions.

A taunting snot came from the tiger-like man at one end of the round meeting table, followed by a loud sneer, "Where did you get the names from? A comic book?". Cheadle narrowed her eyes, feeling rage boil down inside the bottom of his heart but mantained her calm expression. "Plus, what's so special about them? Besides the Zoaldyeck one, they're just kids who doesn't even know what it means to live in this world we're living in," he said with irritation dripping from his voice as he threw his head back and folded his arms behind his head.

Cheadle stood up, and held her head high with mustered confidence as she continued to talk some tampered sense into the brains of her skeptical colleagues. "The prophecy said that they are meant to change the world. We don't know what change will they bring but for the sake of The Hunter's Association, we'll have to make sure they're on our side," she said.

If there's one thing she hated the most, it was using children for her own sake. But as of right now, there was nothing she could do without being relatively evil yet good at the same time – she will do anything to make sure The Hunter's Association win this endless war they were fighting for.

The Summoner's Organization had went pass the boundry when they sent their monsters roaming on _her_ part of the country. If she didn't do this, thousands will die. It was the right thing to do, she kept telling herself no matter how much her own instincts screamed otherwise.

"Gon Freecs could rapidly regenerate – which means that he won't die, granting us a perfect human shield for the front line soldiers. We could use him as a bait any given time – and if anything, he's Ging's son,"Cheadle could see flashes of annoyance in her colleagues' eyes as she uttered their former co-worker's name, the tense air from before had somehow snapped and turned into something more childish.

"Killua Zoaldyeck had exploited his abilities to its true potential, and is a perfect killing machine – expect nothing less from the next heir of the Zoaldyecks," she said, stoic to the point that she couldn't even feel the self-hate that always comes whenever she treated people like weapon. It's what she'd been scared of – becoming completely comfortable being the persona she summoned for the sake of thousands under her. She's the leader. It was her responsibility.

"And Kurapika Kuruta is still oblivious towards his ability of weather manipulation. He could be extremely destructive whenever he's feeling strong emotions, which could probably be most of the time as he's very emotionally sensitive and suffers from PTSD,"she continued.

"We'll be watching them at all times, but if things leaves us no choice, we'll take them in". A thick silence enveloped the entire room, even the air-conditioner was bothering Cheadle, the hair at the back of her neck standing up as each eyes it the meeting room seemed to avoid her searching gaze.

She knew this situation is bound to happen when she took the chairman's position – eventhough Chairman Netero still seemed carefree and light-hearted as the first time they met, Cheadle will never be able to find her old self again. That being said, she's got nothing to lose at the moment. This project was going to succeed, even if it's the last thing she'll do.

 **A/N : Since this is only the prologue, it has to be short even though my chapters are usually 3k-4k. Sorry about the weird story but I really can't help it. Also, I can't seem to imagine someone with the ability of chains in this story, so I gave Kurapika something else. Although Leorio isn't at all mentioned in this chapter, he will make his entrance soon - so to all those Leorio's fans out there, fear not ;)**


	2. Chapter 1 : Identity

**A/N : Hey there, beautiful readers! If anyone had even bothered to check out this addition to Hunting Reasons, I'm absolutely flattered! I'm aware that I'm nothing close to a good writer as I am still learning to improve myself, so if anyone at all enjoy my stories, I'm glad. This chapter was supposed to be posted yesterday, but I got surprised out of my skin when my uncle next door died, and had been in a bad mood until now. Anyway, I...am quite ashamed of myself for even daring to post this chapter - because it sucks, in my opinion - but it can't be helped. Beware of grammar mistakes, typos, OOCness, and the general weirdness of this story. Also, I would also like to thank those who followed/favourited this story - it meant the world to me! I hope you wouldn't change your mind and unfollow it after you read this chapter though... And many thanks to my first ever reviewer,** **RedRaptor for the wonderful comment! You're waaaay too nice! I hope you enjoy this chapter...**

CHAPTER ONE : IDENTITY

If dying out of boredom was possible, Killua Zoaldyeck must've rotten in hell already. But at the moment, so he was bored with nothing to do that he even thought hell could be more interesting than...this. He'd never given it a thought before, but now that he was wandering aimlessly in the middle of the night in some dark alley, maybe he should've planned on what to do once he's out of the Zoaldyeck estate. Killua had imagined living on his own would be exciting, being able to do whatever he wanted without anyone telling him anything. But now that he'd actually escaped from that place he would rather die than call home, he didn't know what to expect.

He was more than aware of the dark silhouette hiding in the shadows of a double-storey building, their blood-lust over him was impossible not to notice. If Killua were in a bad mood, he would've tore their head off the moment they decided to follow him around. But as he was bored out of his mind, he decided to just wait and see, if something interesting will happen.

It was getting on his nerve though, the stranger, as he'd given them every opportunity any amateur assassin would want to seize and yet, they still haven't made their mind yet. He'd been walking through the darkest, quietest area, and even going as far as pretending to fall asleep – but no action has yet to be taken by his so called stalker. Maybe they were scared, unsure if they should really attempt to kill him. But even if they were to back away now, Killua won't let them, as they'd already wasted his five goddamn hour waiting for them, not to mention his state of boredom right now.

Deciding that he's had enough of waiting, Killua stopped in his track, shoving his hands into his jeans pocket and calling out, "What are you waiting for? I'm here if you want to kill me". Killua could hear the more-than-obvious gasp that came from one corner of the alley, and wasted no time in vanishing into thin air before reappearing again behind the silhouetted figure hiding like a coward behind the building. Before the figure even had the chance to notice his presence behind them, Killua manipulated his fingers into a set of claw, pressing them on the stranger's neck.

The stranger's form – now that he's up close, he could see that it was a young woman he's got here – went immediately rigid as a tiny bead of blood bubbled on her skin. "Who sent you?"he asked, despite knowing that the woman was nothing but an ambitious avenger who decided that Killua shouldn't be breathing anymore. The woman was obviously not an assassin, amateur nor proffesional, as the faint smell of blood that never leaves the body of killers couldn't be detected even in such a close proximity. Killua knows this fact by experience, having his whole family including himself tainted with the coppery scent of blood for eternity.

The woman went from absolutely shocked into suddenly calm, which piqued Killua's curiousity more than he'll ever credit the woman for. Within seconds of silence that stretched between them, the woman literally _walked through_ his being, ghosting through his muscled figure as if he was nothing but an illusion. Killua could really have moved away if he wanted to, but he didn't feel like it, and he wanted to see where this could lead to. Things has finally started to become interesting, and he wasn't going to kill her immediately if she could entertain him with her ability.

He felt the cold tip of a gun kissing the back of his head, and was more than conscious of the smug expression the brown-haired woman was giving off – even without looking as was so damn obvious. "I've never met anyone of your ability. Care to explain?"he said in a casual tone, as if this whole thing was nothing but a mere game to him. It really was. Killua could sense the woman's annoyance at his attitude, before hearing her sweet yet cold voice say, "I have the ability of phasing. It means that I can go through everything and anything at all".

Killua immediately lost his interest, thinking of her ability as one that's more useful in defense rather than destruction. There were so many flaws in her ability, especially when dealing with someone who could move literally lightning speed, and especially if that certain someone was Killua. "Three years ago, you killed my brother,"she started as she clicked the gun, ready to fire anytime. There was a 99.9% possibility that her deceased brother was a posthuman just like her, as abilities comes from the blood, and Killua would've remembered killing people like them as he rarely ever did. His missions were always concerning politocians, millionaires and celebrities, so an evolved human would certainly stand out in his memory.

"What was his ability?"he asked, tilting his head despite the gun pointed at him. He could feel the woman's curious glare burning at the back of his head, not long before she answered, "Mist mimicry". The memories from three years ago came flashing in Killua's mind, a brown-haired man who could transform parts of his body into smoke stood out. Now that he think of it, the man really did look like his sister, why didn't he notice that earlier? He'd been an annoying target, dematerializing into smoke and enveloping Killua when Killua appeared in front of him. He could've escaped alive had anyone else rather than Killua show up in front of them, as he was completely invincible in his form of smoke but fate decided that it should be the silver-haired assassin who ended his life.

Killua had been fast enough to slit the man's throat just as he began to take his human form again. Being the kind person he actually was, Killua decided that his sister should die the exact same way he did, as their ability work the same way. It had been a lazy move, if compared to what Killua had did to his brother, but the result wasn't any different, her body fell in an ungraceful heap as blood ran down her neck. Killua had never been bothered before, but something about the way she'd looked at Killua with her jade green eyes wide as colour left her face doesn't sit well with him. It was as if she was looking at him like he was a monster, which he was willing to admit that he was. It didn't explain the fact that it bothered him more than anything, though.

* * *

The air that surrounded his whole being was exceptionally cold, but it only felt fitting somehow...given the mood Kurapika was in. More than anything, he felt tired and sleepy, and he wanted nothing more than to bundle up in thick blankets and sleep his fears away. The clock hung on the wall above the painting of a tree continued ticking, as he waited for his guardian to come and pick him up from the damned place. As he sat rather passively at the waiting area just outside of the office, Kurapika tried not to give much thought about the other students walking by.

He could hear their voices whispering to each other, most of them barely trying to cover up the fact that they were making fun of the lone blond staring blankly at the tiled floor underneath him. Kurapika hadn't at all been trying, but his ears caught every word they uttered, from the hurtful truth, down to the most absurd of lies and rumours. They called him names, weird ones that Kurapika swore he had nothing to do with.

Most of those who had gained an in-sight of what actually happened earlier that day insisted that he was somekind of a modern-day wizard or a sorcerer – all of which didn't even make any sense to him – and those who were oblivious of the event that had taken place in the art room that morning threw him pitying glances he really didn't appreciate. Kurapika grew uncomfortable under their scrutinizing gazes, feeling much like the freak he was as they continued to watch him.

Subconsciously, his hands darted up to tug at the elastic band in his hair – which, he'd been in a good enough mood that morning to have bothered make it into a braid, a common hairstyle for the Kurutas, men and women alike. He pulled the elastic piece away, threading his long, thin fingers through the feather-soft golden locks and messing with it.

It has been years, he should've been able to grow past it by now. All those adults around him who'd been giving him pitying looks had grew rather wary of him, as it's been so long and he should've healed from his wounds. He thought that he'd finally gotten over his past – there had been hardly any nightmare in his sleeps for over the past few weeks. But today's incident had once again reminded him of the fact that no matter how hard he tried to forget, his past would be haunting him for eternity, ghosting over him and looming over his head like a dark cloud hell-bent on making him suffer.

It was frankly embarrassing, having the whole class witnessing his mental breakdown as weird things continued to happen around him. His arts teacher – a young woman with dark brown hair and a beautiful face – who'd been talking nicely to him before anything unusual happened, was now too scared to look at Kurapika in the eye. He didn't blame her though, had he been walking in her shoes, he would also be terrified of the whole ordeal.

He could only remember vaguely, but he had been painting and minding his own business when the brown-haired woman peeked over his shoulder, face forming a frown as she tried to understand what Kurapika's painting meant. Kurapika was going to be honest with this, of all the wonderful things he could successfully do, painting was definitely not one of them. He had painted a rather simple square, even though it was honestly nothing but a set of wavy lines brought together to represent a four angled shape and filled the square with dark brown colour, and added some splashes of blue, which he would like to imagine as a window.

"No offense, Kurapika but... What exactly are you trying to draw here?". Kurapika was one of the worst painter in their class, but it seemed that the young teacher would rather sit with him and try to figure out what his abstract drawing means, than deal with the rest of the elite class who thought that they were too good for paint brushes. She was new, and was too young, and too soft to be yelling at the students to draw something, and Kurapika almost pitied her for the lack of respect she received from her students. It was inevitable, Kurapika's class was mostly of soon-to-be prodigies and spoiled teenagers who'd rather spend their time studying and burying their noses in books rather than draw anything during the class.

Kurapika didn't enjoy art classes either, but he figured out he was in no place to act like some rich snob while having nothing but dust in his wallet. The school was one of the best in country, it's student were mostly made up of rich kids and Kurapika was one of the minority who depended solely on his scholarship only to pay the unreasonable fees. "It's a house".

Kurapika continued by adding a splash of bright, fiery orange at the edge of the house, his unhelpful hand accidentally mixed some of the orange colour into the still wet brown paint inside the square he insisted was a house. The woman nodded her head, sweat-dropping at his side as she continued, "Ah... I see. But what are the orange colour for?". No matter how many times she looked at it, Kurapika's painting looked like a brown box with orange snakes slithering on its edge. Kurapika's brows knitted together in concentration as he continued to add a splash of red into the orange flames, as to add some dimension into his drawing, or so he said.

"...The house is on fire?" His words came out much more like a question than a statement. The brown-haired woman nodded eagerly, finally able to make a building out of Kurapika's abstract painting. "That's great. Why did you choose to paint a burning building?". The woman asked out of pure curiosity as she tried to ignore her students making havoc at the other corner of the room. Done with the colours, Kurapika placed his paintbrush down as a subconscious hand darted up to fidget with the ruby earring dangling from his ear. He frowned to himself as he tried to make out his own drawing. Why indeed?

Kurapika had been asking the question to himself just as flashes of blurred images of what he used to call home assaulted his jumbled mind. He couldn't help the blood-curling scream that replayed in his ears or the images of blood that kept flashing in his mind. His cat-like blue eyes widened in horror in an instant, threatening to glow scarlet any moment. He shook his head in desperation, wishing he could shake off the familliar feeling that crept up his chest. "Kurapika?You look pale...Are you okay?".

He'd barely heard the woman's voice laced with concern, too busy trying to keep those persisting traumatizing images out of his mind. His whole being suddenly felt cold, and he could barely breathe as his body shook uncontrollably. He stood up on shaky legs,taking clumsy steps backwards as he tried his best to calm his won breathing. He felt sick, bile rising up his throat as he frantically looked around the room. "Kurapika?"

The teacher had called out his name in a tiny voice, barely above a whisper as she attempted to calm her panicking student down by touching him by his shoulder. The touch seemed to startle the blond though, he knocked the pale hand off his shoulder, tripping over a full bucket of paint in the process. He felt helpless at the moment, as he sat on the floor covered in paint, he could barely even register the fact that his classmates were looking over at him then, laughing. At him.

The rest that happened came back in a blur, though he remembered that the laughing voices somehow escalated into panicked screams as drawers and cabinets opened and closed themselves, sending everything inside flying all across the room as harsh wind knocked down every painting in the room. Someone had the mind to close the windows, but it was doing nothing to the gale force wind that summonned itself out of nowhere. Kurapika remembered having closed his eyes then, though the sound of something made of glass shattering was deafeningly loud at the moment.

Presently, Kurapika snapped his eyes shut and took a deep breath in order to calm himself, feeling the wind blow gently, but something about it felt rather unnatural. When he reopened his eyes, though, a pair of legs dressed in simple brown trousers stomped their way into Kurapika's line of vision, and he didn't have to look up to see that his guardian was glaring down at him with anger. Kurapika rose himself into a standing position, but didn't dare to look at the man in the eyes, opting to pin his gaze on his own pair of shoes instead. The anger that radiated from the man he called Charles was more than obvious, and seemed to be directed to Kurapika and Kurapika only.

It wasn't everyday that Kurapika pissed the middle-aged man _this_ bad, though he'd been acting out for the past few days. As Kurapika prepared himself to look up, Kurapika felt a rough hand on his cheek, the impact sending his head sideways. Kurapika was pretty sure his cheek were furious red then, as he felt it sting from the slap he'd just received. It might just be him, but the whole room grew quiet. "You ungrateful child!I raised you up, kept you alive up until this point and _this_ is how you pay me back?! Humiliating me?!".

In all honesty, Kurapika could live with the pain on his cheek that came from the slap he'd just received from the man. Kurapika knew he deserved to be slapped and so much more and he hardly minded that. He didn't mind being shouted at, being scolded, or being insulted by the man standing in front of him because if anyone deseved it, Kurapika did. But he did mind the fact that Charles was screaming at his face in public, his loud voice making it possible for everyone to hear the harsh words he'd chosen. Every eyes in the room was watching as if it was somekind of a sick drama – if anything, Kurapika's life was a sick drama that comes from a cruel, distressed scriptwriter.

It's not that Kurapika felt ashamed of the way Charles was throwing insults at him, but he could almost read everyone's mind at that moment, thinking something along the lines of 'it's okay to treat Kurapika like shit because even his guardian does so'. Somewhere during that thought, the wind had picked up its pace, tousling his blond hair as he bit his lips refusing to say anything and make a scene. He could've yelled back, start a fight and scream nasty words on top of his lungs, but at that particular moment, he didn't at all feel like it – he was too tired from his breakdown earlier to have to put up with any of this.

All he wanted at that time was to be over with this already, then lock himself inside his room and lie in bed for hours until he fall asleep. He still felt drowsy, his eyelids heavy from the tears he'd shed earlier that day. He blocked everything out, the man's long lecture filled with curse words, up until he was sitting in the principal's office, the cold air-conditioned air that surrounded them was slightly bothering him. "I think a psychologist would be your best bet," Principal Williams suggested as he looked at Kurapika's guardian, his thick-rimmed glasses reflected their image. Kurapika felt slight anger rise from that suggestion – there was absolutely no way he was going back to meeting with his psychologist, their last appointment two years ago made it obvious that some nosy adult with faked smiles wasn't going to be able to cure him from his current issues.

"For now, you will be suspended from school." Kurapika immediately snapped at those words, as if a switch had been turned on inside of him as he inquired, "What?". Aside from being the freak he was, Kurapika hasn't done anything wrong that could've caused him to be suspended. At that moment, the only fact that mattered to Kurapika was that his scholarship was at stake here. If Kurapika was really to be suspended, there would be no doubt in his scholarship being taken back, which would result in a lot of trouble in the future.

The grey-haired old man pinned him with a stern gaze, adjusting the thick-rimmed glasses at the bridge of his nose as he stated, in a matter-of-fact tone, "You ruined the entire art room. That's vandalisme. I don't know how you did it, but the effects was lethal and disastrous." Kurapika could be really stubborn when he wanted to. "But you cannot prove I did anything besides having a panic attack!" he countered, feeling frustration creeping up his chest as he tried to bring himself to believe that he was being suspended for having to deal with his own anxiety. "That's true,"Principal Williams admitted as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the blond.

"But this supernatural phenomenon seemed as though it was caused by you – no matter how many times I look at it". At one corner of the room, the liquid inside an inconspicuous water dispenser began to bubble up furiously, as if boiling from the rage that took over Kurapika's whole being. The Kuruta bit his lower lip, clenching his fists until they were stark white and glared at the principal with half-scarlet, half-blue irises. Maybe he really should have bothered to put on his contacts that morning, came a distracted thought reprimanding him. "I didn't do anything!"

He declared, right in time for the whole room to grow silent as the water dispenser at the corner of the room bursted its content, the sound it made alone was violent enough, not to mention the shards of glass that shattered all over the room's carpeted floor. Kurapika winced, knowing all too well what, or rather who had caused the sudden combustion to take place just now. "...I didn't do that" he added helplessly as he averted his eyes away from both men, knowing more than anything that he was damned for sure. "Get out from my office! And from now on, you are forbidden within this school's perimeter!"

The old man with greying hair shouted furiously as Kurapika and his guardian helped themselves out of the office. Charles left without uttering a single word, but his silence spoke too much and it was too obvious that Kurapika shouldn't be following him home any time soon. Kurapika stood in front of the school gate, not knowing what to do with himself anymore. A clasp of thunder roared above him, making him reluctantly look up to the dark clouds hanging low in the grey sky. As weird as it was, he had a feeling that the sky was just as mad as him at the moment. That's it. Kurapika Kuruta was finally out of his mind.

* * *

 **A/N : Does it even make any sense at all? I haven't been writing in a while so the wording might seem a little awkward compared to my other stories. *sighs in disappointment* I really did try my best to write a good story, but this seems like my limits... It's the best I can do so I hope someone did read the whole chapter and didn't press the back button half the way through. How was it? Did I go too fast or too slow? Is there anything I can do to make the story better? I don't expect reviews but they motivates me into writing more of this crap, so if anyone wants the next chapter, you should let me know. Anyway, question for the readers : if you were a post-human, what ability would you have? The review button is just a click away! Don't hesitate!**


	3. Chapter 2 : Encounter

CHAPTER 3 : ENCOUNTER

The wind that breezed past him was strangely unnatural, Gon Freecs noted as he walked down the quiet street, a back pack hung over his broad shoulders. It seemed that the wind had picked up its pace, blowing against trees and making them dance along, but anyone other than the young man clad in green wouldn't have noticed the difference that the wind carried.

Had Gon told this to anyone, they wouldn't have believed in him but Gon detected a strange aura looming over him as the wind blew once more, seeming questionably agitated as it goes. There was definitely something wrong with the wind. Gon adjusted the straps on his shoulder, eyes looking around to see that this part of the town seemed quiet, a contrast to the previous city he'd been in – where huge, extravagant buildings that touched the sky perched up everywhere he looked, people buzzing around with cups of coffees and streets packed with cars.

This town seemed nice, with not too much people walking around, and those who passed him seemed friendly, greeting him with polite smiles stretched on their lips. There was a few houses built far from each other on the left side of the street, and Gon could see well-maintained gardens and a rather quiet playground on his right. Gon figured out that the kids must be at school, a group of buildings complete with a huge hall and a field that stretched for miles he'd gone past earlier. Gon had never been to a school before, but it did seem interesting to him as he stopped by to watch a group of teenage boys playing football from afar earlier.

Gon hadn't had any friend around his age in Whale Island, so he felt something akin to envy as he watched the young boys played and fooled around with each other at the vast green sea of grass. A strong gust of wind sent an emptied plastic bottle flying in Gon's direction, missing his head by merely several inches. Gon narrowed his eyes, feeling something that could've been sand in his eyes. He looked around, feeling the faint aura he detected in the wind earlier getting stronger and stronger as he continued to pace forward. His eyes briefly scanned the area once again, squinting his eyes when he caught a slight figure sitting on one of the swings installed on the playground.

Gon tilted his head, not even thinking as he cut his path across the road towards the park. The wind came down on him harder and harder each step he took, but soon, he was standing before a blond male with a friendly grin on his face. "Hello, I'm Gon! I'm from Whale Island!" He chirped with his natural cheerfulness, and hesitantly, the blond boy looked up. Gon might be a little too talkative and energetic for some – as he reminisced about the man who sat beside him in the bus, who refused to let Gon talk about random things and deciding on moving to an empty seat behind them and leaving Gon to try and not talk to anyone for the next few hours – but he just couldn't help it whenever the urge to talk gets overpowering.

The blond boy doesn't seem talkative, and was rather distant as he nodded in acknowledgement and muttered a hesitant question under his breath, "Have you just moved in?" The single question lead Gon to occupy the empty swing beside the blond, feeling contented as someone was at least pretending to be interested in hearing him talk. "No, I'm just wandering around and looking for my Dad,"he replied, huge amber eyes looking down into the blond's blue orbs. If the other boys was pretending to be interested before, he certainly wasn't now, "Did you lost your dad?". Gon smiled, glad that the older boy in a school uniform was being drawn into the long story he intended to tell.

"No, I never met him. He left me with my aunt when I was born. For years, I thought that both of my parents were dead, that was until, I came across a friend of his a few weeks back, and he told me that Ging was never dead," Gon said, no bitterness in his voice despite talking about being abandoned. The blond looked at Gon in silence for a while, as if trying to figure out if he was making up the story, in which, he seemed to understand that Gon didn't. The blond seemed much less distant now, that Gon had told him his story. "So, you're trying to find him?" the blue-eyed blond asked as he looked at Gon with a look that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't quite sympathy, but rather something akin to understanding. Gon nodded, a look of determination in his amber eyes as he responded with a loud and confident , "Yes."

"Forgive me if this comes across as being rude but, aren't you hurt? Well, your father abandoned you and it doesn't make sense that your looking for him?" the blond asked, seeming to have chosen his words carefully as not to hurt the younger boy's feeling. Gon looked away. Was he hurt? Gon could say that he wasn't but he couldn't help the unusual feeling that crept up his chest every time he heard the word 'abandon', regardless the situation. Gon was an optimist, he never thought too deeply into things so that he wouldn't have to burden his mind but sometimes, just sometimes whenever the deepest part of him took over, it did occurred to him, the question of why his father abandoned him. Was he not worth it? Was he not good enough? As soon as these questions rise inside Gon's jumbled minds it was shoved back into the darkest part of his mind, as usual.

Ever since he was very young, Gon has learned to smile everything off, as it never fails to make things better. So Gon Freecs flashed a wide grin, trying to grasp his cheery disposition and said, "Nope. Well, there must be some important reason that made him leave me and I'm determined to find out what it is,"he said, ignoring the evil part on himself that seemed to hiss, _More important than me_. He couldn't let onto his feelings. He will feel better if he thought on nothing bitter. The blond looked up at him again, a sudden light glinting in his soft blue eyes, something akin to admiration. That look washed away the darker part of Gon, feeling proud that someone was looking at him that way. Gon never did care, but it feels good to be admired.

"I'm Kurapika,"the blond said, holding out a hand and smiling a sweet smile that suited him so much. Gon shook the outstretched hand, feeling satisfied that he'd finally made a friend around his age after so long. A sudden thought occurred to Gon that the wind had somehow calmed down, and the dark aura looming around earlier had settled down into a quieter, calmer one, almost humming in mirth, if that even made any sense. "How old are you, Gon?" Kurapika asked. Gon uttered the two digits with a cheer, and the blond revealed that he was only one year older than the other boy.

Feeling like the blond has opened up to him quiete enough, Gon inquired the question that he's been intending to ask, "Are you an evolved human too?". The blond furrowed his brows, looking absolutely clueless as he searched the other boy's eyes for an answer he couldn't find. Gon laughed, the sound causing the blond raise an eyebrow, a silent question of "What?" He'd been clueless too, when Kite had explained to him what he really were, and his reaction was much too similar too Kurapika's. "An evolved human or a post-human is a person with exceptional abilities," Gon said, parroting what Kite had said to him two weeks ago. The blond darted his eyes away, seeming deep in thought as a gust of wind breeze past him, tousling his feather-soft blond hair.

It was only after a long moment of silence did the blond look up with a carefully formulated question, "What makes you think I'm one?". The blond regarded the young boy clad in green cautiously, hugging himself either in reassurance or defense. Gon tilted his head, a habit that he cracked over the years, especially when he's deciding not to think before doing something. "It takes one to know one, I guess?" He revealed to a half-shocked, half-amused Kurapika, the blond looking him up and down as if trying to figure him out. The younger boy let himself smile a proud smile, getting on his feet and standing before offering, "Let me show you".

The spiky-haired boy looked around something dangerous, something that could break a few bones or cut a deep wound but couldn't find any. So he set his back pack on the ground, bending down to search through its content and rummaging through his stuff until he found a pair of scissors. He smiled as he brought the relatively sharp pair of scissors close to his pinky, hoping that the piece of metal was sharp enough to cut it off. Gon didn't see Kurapika's eyes widen in horror, but he did heard the sudden gasp and Kurapika's voice cutting through the air, "Wait, what-".

The blond was cut into an abrupt hall as he watched in horror a detached finger falling off to the ground, blood dripping fast onto the patch of grass below. Gon felt slight pain stinging at where his pinky finger was supposed to be, but it was gone as soon as it grew back, almost like how a plant does, if fast-forwarded. Gon smiled, lifting up and wiggling his brand new pinky finger at the blond's direction, the latter seemed rather amazed, looking at the finger with his mouth slightly agape. What snapped them back to their surrounding was an impressed,low whistle that didn't come from neither Gon nor Kurapika. Their eyes immediately darted up to its source, a good-looking teenage boy with the palest hair Gon had ever seen.

It was shocking that even Gon didn't notice his presence earlier. But Gon smiled nonetheless, flashing his pearly white teeth as the other boy shoved his hands in his pockets and raised both eyebrows. "How long have you been there? I haven't noticed you until now! That's amazing!" The silver-haired teenager smirked, but ignored the question as he inquired a question of his own, "So you're an evolved human? Man, I've never seen an ability like yours". Gon grinned, like he always does regardless of the situation, and moved closer towards the other boy, accidentally stepping on his own detached finger lying on the patch of grass, and held out his hand, "I'm Gon! You must also be one too, right?"

The silver-haired young man didn't seem too enthusiastic in shaking the offered hand, but did anyway, offering his name, "Killua." Gon introduced Killua to Kurapika, the former greeting the blond with a casual, "Yo!" and the latter responding with a polite nod. If Gon had been happy to make a friend almost his age, he was now outrageously excited as he'd just made two of them in a single day, not to mention that they both might be of the same kind as himself. The silver-haired teenager picked up what used to be a part of Gon's body from the ground seemingly unfazed by what most would deem as gross and inspected it. "So you're like a starfish or something?"

Gon raised his brows cluelessly before tilting his head and repeated, "Starfish?" Killua quirked an eyebrow, as if doubting that the dark haired boy had no idea what he just implied. "You know.. Starfishes could grow back once it's detatched." Gon has always loved animal, but where he came from, there was never a single starfish. "They can do that?!"Gon asked, impressed with the little fact – as if it was far greater than the fact that he could heal himself. Kurapika bubbled up with a small giggle, while Killua face-palmed, muttering something along the lines of, "Is he an idiot or _what_?". Gon rubbed at the back of his neck, seeming sheepish as he grinned. "Well, someone told me that my ability is called rapid cellular regeneration."

Killua nodded, not having the chance to speak before Gon's bubbly voice inquired, "What about you? What're your abilities?". Killua seemed rather unaffected when he replied with casualty, "I could generate electricity." Gon nodded eagerly, trying to imagine how cool the ability must be. The only logical question that follows would be, "Can you show us?" Killua seemed to ponder on whether to show them or not, but than shrugged before lazily raising one hand with his fingers curled together except for his thumb and index finger. It was a small spark of hot white electricity that appeared in the middle of Killua's two fingers and Gon had never seen something so beautiful yet intimidating at the same time.

Every New Year, there would be fireworks all over the sky that sheltered Whale Island and Gon thought it was the prettiest spark of light he'd ever seen. But now that he'd seen Killua generate a small spark of electricity, he's starting to doubt that. "It's beautiful!" Gon exclaimed. Killua seemed taken aback by Gon's comment, as if no one had ever told him that – and unbeknownst to the dark haired boy, no one ever did – and he looked away, a look that Gon couldn't place in his azure eyes. "This thing could kill, just so you know."

Gon furrowed his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something was cut by Killua's obvious topic diversion, "Anyway, how about you? Are you really one of us?" And as simple as that, Gon's attention went back to the blond, the question he intended to ask earlier forever forgotten. The blond was still sitting on the swing, darting his eyes away as he announced, "I don't think so." Gon tilted his head, trying to figure out how Kurapika cannot be one when Gon was positively confident that he was. Gon had never been wrong in differenciating one kind from another, he could always tell a male animal apart from the female, and could always tell which leaf fell first just by looking. It was just his natural talent, nothing to do with his ability.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet the both of you but I really have to go,"Kurapika said, seeming to have switched back to his distant self earlier. "Eh, wait! I really think you're special too!" Gon said as the blond walked away, keeping his eyes to the ground as the wind came in a strong gust once again, messing with his hair. "Leave her be," Killua said, eyes lazily watching the blond's retreating back as he folded his arms behind his head. As if a button had been pushed, Kurapika swiftly turned right back, angrily correcting, "I'm a _he_!" A gale of wind came crashing down on the spot where Killua was supposed to be, right in time with the blond's sudden outburst. The force of the wind sent sand and dust everywhere, another gust of wind sweeping them free from the air, revealing the exact spot where Killua had been, clear of grass and seemingly destroyed.

Killua had been way faster then the wind, jumping onto the monkey bar as he watched the wind crashed the ground like it never have before, killing a patch of grass that had been there. "Did you do that, Kurapika?" Gon's voice asked after a moment of silence, trying to understand what just happened. Killua jumped back down from the freshly painted monkey bar and shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket. The blond kept silent, trying to figure it out by himself. After the silence stretched, Gon wondered out loud, "Isn't it wonderful?". He was met with two blue eyes, one skeptic and the other was just curious. "Three teenagers of the same kind encountering each other at the same time. It must be our fate." The other two looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

Unbeknownst to them, a closed circuit camera installed nearby was glaring at them, red light flickered as it recorded their every movement. Gon did feel the hair at the back of his neck stand but he dismissed it, thinking that it was just his feeling. It wasn't.

* * *

Gon was an idiot, Killua decided. A weird, stubborn-ass idiot. The dark haired boy was too trusting in Killua's opinion, and way too simple-minded to have survived eighteen years in this dog-eat-dog world. Where did he came from? In the middle of a jungle on an isolated island? It was just a random sarcastic remark, but Killua soon learned that it was true.

"Do you think he's going to show up?" The spiky-haired boy asked as he sat on the swing. It had been hours since the sun has set and Killua had taken up the other boy's weird offer of a journey as a result of boredom. Did you know that men do the craziest things when they are bored? Gon had the weirdest idea of inviting both Kurapika and Killua, strangers for short, into his adventure of seeking for his father for the mere reason that he felt connected to the other two. Killua wonders, what would be his reaction if he knows that he'd just invited an assassin into his life. Then again, he probably doesn't even know what assassins do, since he seemed not to be the most intelligent.

And it was bizarre, but Killua agreed to come along right away. They parted ways for a few hours, Killua having a burger at a nearby stall and they agreed to meet at the park where they had first met each other. Kurapika didn't say that he was going to tag along, seeming uninterested as he waved off the offer with a forced, "I'll think about it". Killua couldn't care less if the blond decided against coming after all, but Killua thought that it would be less boring if he could tease someone since the older boy seemed to have anger issues.

"He won't,"Killua replied, swiping his thumb on his phone and unlocking it. He clicked on a random game he installed several months earlier, one that consinst of ogres and hunters. Tapping on the screen of his Iphone thus making his avatar jump over a hurdle, Killua heard Gon's sweet yet deep voice cut through the cold night air. "But why?" he almost whined. Killua expertly switched between tapping his left and right thumb, not even paying attention as he offhandedly replied, "Well, because it's crazy. And it's dangerous to follow two teenage boys he barely even knew to nowhere. We could've plotted to kidnap and sell him or something". Killua killed the boss monster with not much effort before adding, "Plus, he looks like someone who has a family to take care of".

"Do I?" Came a rather annoyed voice from behind them, making Killua turn his head to see a pair of blue eyes glaring daggers at him. It was getting too easy to get on the blond's nerve. "Sure do. You look like a spoilt, prissy guy from a rich family," Killua added with a grin, half to make the blond mad, half to see his reaction. But rather than having another outburst that comes in a package with a gust of wind, the blond looked away with a dark look in his eyes before deciding to ignore the Killua. "Anyway, are you sure you don't mind me tagging along, Gon?" He said, acting as if the other boy didn't exist. Killua rolled his eyes, going back to his paused game as he continued to listen to their conversation.

"Of course I don't! After all, I was the one who invited you," the dark haired boy said. The whole situation itself was weird, but what's weirder, they don't have a single clue to start looking other than Ging's appearance and the fact that Kite had suggested that he was a specialist at a private academy called Hunter's Academy. He'd taken time to look the academy up through the net, but couldn't seem to find that it actually exists. It seemed as though their adventure would be for nothing, but Killua figured out he had nothing to lose.

 **A/N : It's been a week since the last update, I've been feeling unmotivated to write another chapter until now. I wasn't really expecting any reviews at all but when I got a review for the prologue I guess I got too excited and was getting my hopes up for another review. I have another story in the Kuroshitsuji fandom that I have only bothered to upload the first chapter and yet, I already have five reviewers wanting me to continue the story. But I love HxH and writing this story makes me feel happy so I've decided that I will only continue writing this story if I get one review for this chapter or if at least five persons follow/favourite this story. The reviews doesn't have to be long or anything fancy, just a simple "This is just OK" is fine. Thanks for anyone who's reading and I absolutely love those who followed/favourited.**


	4. Chapter 3 : Homogeneous

CHAPTER THREE : HOMOGENEOUS

The night was getting cold, Kurapika rubbed his palms together in order to produce some heat. His breath was visible in the darkness of the night as he walked down the empty street accompanied by two other teenage boys. It was the craziest decision he'd ever made in his entire life, following two extraordinarily abnormal strangers towards an unknown place in an unknown town. Needless to say, Kurapika really was going crazy.

He had originally planned to turn down the offer, being able to list down all the infinite reasons he should never agree to follow a stranger around. And yet, as the day faded into the night, he couldn't help the other part of himself that kept nagging him to go, but he tried to rationalize himself. Something about the two boys kept bugging him though, as something in him told him that he was going to regret turning down the offer.

Gon promised to meet at the park at eight, and it was past that time did Kurapika changed his mind,deciding to come along after all. His only excuse was to find out what he really was – but there were so much more reason behind that one excuse; Gon's simple-mindedness and ridiculously unconditional acceptance, the dark look in Killua's eyes that most might've missed that suggested he's been through a lot and his own loneliness. On the other hand, being kicked out of school meant that he's got nothing to lose at all, and even if he ended up dying, he couldn't care less.

So he made it to the park, thankful that both Gon and Killua had bothered to wait for him after all. And that's what brought Kurapika there, walking alongside Gon and Killua in the middle of the night, occasionally giggling at Gon's funny stories and jokes. "There was this one time I let a wolf bite my hand to see if it can grow back," Gon said, a bright glint in his amber eyes that almost shone in the darkness. Killua was skeptic, as always, but Kurapika didn't miss the amused look on his face. "Then, you should work as a food for my dog, because you'll last forever," the silver-haired young man said, a casual grin carefully placed on his face, and his arms folded behind his head.

"Your dog eats human?" Kurapika voiced, doubting the fact that Killua had just implied, but wasn't quite sure with the straight face Killua was wearing. Gon seemed to visibly light up at the sudden change of topic, the other two having discovered that the dark-haired boy seem to be deeply interested in animals – except for the fact that he'd never had any experiences with starfishes, that is. Killua looked away, though his expression doesn't seem to change, explaining, "Yep. His name's Mike – he's a huge guy". Now, that made Kurapika wonder if he really was talking about a dog, or something else entirely.

"That sounds cool! I hope I can see him someday!"Gon chirped, seeming rather energetically childish despite being the tallest among the three. "I wonder if,"he added out loud, bringing a hand up to his chin in a thinking fashion, "I'll die if I get eaten by your dog and become digested in his stomach?". Kurapika frowned, it seemed like Gon has a tendency of trying to kill himself, just to see how far he could go without dying. From the stories he'd shared earlier, he did almost everything just to see if he really could heal from everything – from jumping off a cliff, cutting himself and placing his hand in a pot of boiling water to standing at the middle of the road and wait for a car to come crashing him. He might just be curious of what he could really do, but Kurapika knew there was something else, something hidden deep inside him, behind his cheerful smiles.

"The process of digestion usually takes hours to complete. I think that way, you could heal inside the stomach and cut your way out," Kurapika suggested, kicking a tiny pebble out of his way just because he had nothing else to do and because he felt like it. The night sky that stretched above them was cloudless, and the stars shone in their place, all over the sky like a beautiful pattern on a million dollar painting. Gon's face, illuminated by the beautiful moonlight that lit the entire place, more than the dim streetlights that flickered at the edge of the street, accompanied by a large grin, was one of the most heart-warming thing Kurapika had ever watched. It's only been hours since they met, but Kurapika was already growing fond of the younger boy, never having met with someone so kind, cheerful and yet, simple-minded.

How could someone be so nice? Kurapika almost shook his head, refusing to let himself believe in the boy too much, because everytime he gets too trusting, getting his hopes up and trying to convince himself that there was someone in this world who care about the others more than themselves, he never failed to get himself hurt. He didn't know the boy yet, and his kindness could be a mask and an ill intention could be hidden somewhere within him. Even with that being said, it doesn't mean Kurapika doesn't secretly feel guilty for doubting the boy.

"You're so smart, Kurapika! I could never think of that!"the boy exclaimed, strong and confident. Kurapika could only see from the corner of his eyes, but he could practically hear the other boy roll his azure eyes before saying, "That's because you're an idiot". Gon doesn't seem hurt, his bright amber eyes lighted up with mirth as he pouted, "Killua, that's mean". The silver-haired teenager opted to remain silent, but the playful smirk on his face suggested that he declared himself winning the conversation. Kurapika giggled into the back of his hand, feeling warm in the inside like he hadn't felt for a long time.

Kurapika has almost forgotten the joy of having friends. They passed the empty streets, into the main part of the little town where most residents were still in their dreamland, and twenty-four seven convinience stores stayed put. As they walked past a small convinience store with a huge green sign board, announcing it's name in two digits, 99, Kurapika looked into the store, the bright white light spilling from the premise onto the sidewalk. The shop seemed rather empty, and it doesn't seem like there would be people swarming in any sooner. Why would such a small store stay open in the middle of the night was beyond Kurapika. It's not like anyone would be feeling like walking into it at that time of the night.

"Can we stop by this shop? I'm getting hungry," he heard Gon say, the dark-haired boy putting a hand on his stomach as if trying to emphasize the fact. Just forget what he'd just said about no one wanting to walk into stores at night. Neither of the other to said anything, but they didn't seem to protest as Killua pushed the glass door open, walking into it and pacing straight towards the rack that held the chocolates. Walking into the small convinience store was like walking through bricks of coldness, the dry air being conditioned by a few cooling machines on the ceiling. Kurapika crossed his arms and rubbed his upper arms, hoping to warm himself. How could anyone stand the coldness of the air-conditioned building? Kurapika hated it.

Gon and Killua didn't seemed bothered though, even if Gon came from an island that receives sunlight every day of the year. The said boy was now walking around with a huge pile of food in his arms, varying from packs of flavoured bread to all kinds of chips. Kurapika looked around, to the goods arranged neatly on every rack, before shifting his gaze to the counter, where a young man sat, tapping on something on his phone, who then looked at Kurapika. Now that he thought about it, it did seem a little bit awkward to be standing there and watching around while trying to warm himself. Kurapika averted his gaze, walking past the counter towards the drinks in the cooler, skimming through every bottle and can before opening the cooler's door, feeling yet more cold air hit him, before grabbing a bottle of mineral water, which he'd forgotten to pack along with the rest of his things.

Kurapika drank a lot throughout the day, so even if he won't be feeling thirsty any time soon in the coldness of the night, he would be needing it by day. But then again, seeing that his friends were spending money greatly – Gon on all kinds of food and Killua on all kinds of chocolates – wouldn't he seem weird or stingy if he bought nothing but a bottle of the cheapest mineral water available? So he walked around a little bit, glancing over almost every thing on sale, before settling down for a bar of chocolate. He wasn't a fan of those, but chocolates might come in handy as it lasts long, just in case if Kurapika got robbed or something.

Kurapika walked back towards the counter, setting down the bottle of water and the bar of chocolates before fishing out his wallet from the pocket of his jeans. The skinny young man behind the counter looked up lazily from his phone, before asking, "That's all?". The dark-haired young man's green eyes glanced over Gon with his pile of food before looking back at Kurapika. And suddenly Kurapika felt like punching something. A pile of papers stacked neatly behind the counter was sent flying all over the floor and was followed with a tired sigh from the young man.

Kurapika was never going to admit that he's got anger issues, but he did let a victorious smirk creep up his face at the miserable man behind the counter. He wasn't sure if he was the one who caused the hundreds of papers flying, but he was sure glad something did. He pulled out a few dollars and a few coins from his wallet and put it on the counter before sneaking the mineral water and chocolate bar into the messenger bag hung over his shoulder. Both Gon and Killua were standing behind the counter by the time the young man started collecting the pieces of papers, cursing when he found out that he had no idea how to put it into order.

Kurapika walked out of the small building, but not before glaring intently towards the air conditioner above him. The night air that greeted him outside was much warmer and welcoming than he'd previously thought. Kurapika looked around, only to see the street empty as it had been before he walked into the convinience store. But something was different, Kurapika couldn't completely recognize the smell right away, but he it did occur to him that thick black smoke was coming from the other end of the street, from somewhere hidden from Kurapika's view. As if right on cue, a sudden deafening roar of a siren came blaring through the night, killing the reassuring silence that accompanied him seconds ago.

Kurapika frowned as a huge red vehicle made its way into Kurapika's range of view, seeming small and slow from the distance. It soon got bigger as it neared the blond-haired boy, and Kurapika had the urge to cover his ears with his hands when it passed him, high on speed and ridiculously loud in volume. "What's happening?" Gon's voice boomed from somewhere behind him, and he didn't notice when the other boy got out of the store. Perhaps because of the siren, he absent-mindedly thought. "Something's on fire, obviously," Killua provided from where he was standing behind both other boys.

"Let's check it out!" Gon said, his voice laced with contrasting excitement and concern, as he ran down the street, fast and ridiculous as he was carrying way too much plastic bags. Kurapika and Killua shared a glance before catching up with the dark-haired teenager, the blond craning his neck to see past Gon's muscled figure, a small spark of hot orange flame on a small building met his eyes. As Kurapika got closer, the building got bigger and the little flame turned out to be a raging monster of fire. The smell of ash in the air thickened, and the sound of people murmuring to each other was becoming louder.

A huge crowd stood before the burning building, held back by a thin line of white and red. Men and women were whispering to each other as two firemen tried to put out the fire. Another man in a fireman's suit was saying something to the crowd, but the hububbing of the huge crowd was drowning his voice. Kurapika subconsciously brought a hand up to cover his lower face, the thick black smoke was starting to fill his lungs. A woman cried a good distance away from the crowd, catching the attentions of the three evolved human among the crowd. "What's wrong?"Gon asked, his sweet voice laced with concerned, but not before he jogged up towards the woman.

The grey-haired woman cried harder, screaming her words into the air, "My little Drake! He's inside!". The woman seemed hysterical, and it did not help the fact that Kurapika hated burning buildings. Gon gave the woman a pat on the back, before whispering some comforting words into the woman's ears, way too soft for Kurapika to hear – how could anyone hear anything with all these noises? Kurapika let out a cough, the thick smoke constricting his lungs – and he wasn't even in the building. He felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Drake. If it was cold before, it certainly wasn't now, Kurapika could feel the heat radiating from the burning building warming up the entire neighborhood. The effort the firemen made to put out the fire seemed futile.

"How hot do you think it is?" Gon asked, without even bothering to wait for the answers, before bending down and walking past the red and white lines. The firemen seemed too busy to notice but Gon Freecs ran into the burning building and disappeared behind the front door just as a piece of debris fell on the floor, right where Gon would've been had he been a few seconds too late.

* * *

The first thing Gon did when he entered the building was cough into the fabric of his sleeves, feeling the overpowering smell of smoke taking over his whole pair of lungs. The heat of the hot orange flame all over the building was unbearable, biting into his skin and leaving hot red marks all over. The heat pressed down on his own being like a hot pressure, and it was getting hard to breathe. All he could see was fire, and little remaining parts of the building. He looked around, trying to search for a room or something. There was a door at the other end of the hall, and a flight of burning stairs lined on the wall beside him. He suddenly regretted not asking the old woman where Drake was.

He darted his eyes between the door and the stairs, stifling yet another cough as he decided on taking the stairs, despite not having any idea it was the right choice. There was no time for both, he decided. The building was going to come down any seconds now. It was unbearably hot, and Gon felt the urge to find the poor little boy get stronger as it occured to him that Drake couldn't heal. The burn marks stays. The second floor wasn't entirely burning, it appears that the raging fire started downstairs, probably in the kitchen. There was three doors at the second floor, Gon decided to open it all, since there just might still be time for that. He turned the knob of the first door, the metal burned his hand, the feeling was akin to the time when Gon got the baking tray out of the oven without bothering to put on the kitchen gloves.

He didn't have time to check, but he was pretty sure the flesh of his palms were burnt bright red, just like the time he carried the oven-hot baking tray. The room was probably a bedroom before being eaten by fire, what used to be a queen-sized bed sitting on one side of the room. Gon called out for Drake, but hearing no response from the boy, he wasted no time in seizing the next door open. He felt the metal of the knob burning into his hand once again, just as it began to heal form the fatal burn marks. Gon was met with a loud bark, a small snow-coloured dog wagging its tail running his way. This room was small, and it seemed to be the least affected part of the building as water was running down the pipe into the blocked sink, and dripping to the white-tiled floor. Gon picked up the dog, holding him close to himself and shielding him from the fire.

Gon ran in record time towards the last door kicking it open and yelling on top of his lungs, "Drake!". He lost count of how many times he'd shouted the boy's name, praying over and over again that the boy was still alive. It was when a part of the ceiling crashed on the floor did Gon decided to get downstairs, but not before waiting for a few seconds in hope of a last minute respond. Nothing. Gon bit his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed, before turning away and making hisway downstairs. The whole floor was burning, Gon coughed countless times as he dashed across the hall towards the front door. He could try and check that one room downstairs, but the cute little dog in his grasp might not survive it.

So, with guilt clenching at his core, Gon ran outside towards the crowd. One of the firemen came rushing towards him, taking off his jacket made from a fire-proof material and covering Gon with it, trying to put out the fire burning away Gon's green hoodie. The white dog leaped down from his hold and ran towards the old woman from earlier. And it was getting on Gon's nerve that the fireman didn't stop trying to tend to him. He needed to go back. For drake. Gon looked back at the double-storey building, watching as it started to collapse. It might be too late. Gon had failed. He was gifted, he couldn't get hurt, he won't die, and yet, he failed to save a little boy's live. Maybe he's a disappointment and that's why his father left him. Because he was never good enough. Gon didn't notice when Kurapika and Killua came rushing to his side.

"Are you okay?" one of them seemed to ask, but Gon was too much in a daze to note which one. He nodded his head, eyes staring emptily towards the grey-haired woman hugging the snow-coloured dog close. He frowned. Wasn't the old woman supposed to be devastated that he failed to save Drake. Yet, the woman was smiling, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes. "No, you're not,"the fireman said with a frown, ripping off a small part of Gon's sleeves to check on how bad his condition really was. No burn marks. He was perfectly fine. "No burn marks?" the fireman asked, flabbergasted. Gon paid him no mind, more concerned for the woman walking over to him with a smile. "Thank you."

"But why? I failed to save Drake,"Gon said, his voice was uncharacteristically bitter. The woman laughed, a glint of happiness was visible in her sharp blue eyes as she lifted the dog in her embrace, announcing, "This boy here, is my little Drake!" And that was all it took to throw Gon into a fit of laughter. Kurapika and Killua looked at each other, before joining in, and for some ridiculous reason, even the fireman joined in with a merry laugh. The woman thanked Gon a few more thousand times before retreating, her family having arrived to take her somewhere else. The fire soon died, but it did leave the entire building demolished, black and fragile. Gon decided that it was time to leave, walking away with both Kurapika and Killua on his heels, only to feel a light tap on his left shoulder. It was the fireman from earlier – Gon has taken the time to learn that his name was Benjamin Waters.

Gon looked at the man in the eye with curiousity, silently asking for the man to explain himself. "There was a man,"he said, his deep voice whispering the words softly into Gon's ear, "Who gave me this". Mr Waters shoved a neatly folded piece of paper into the young man's hand, looking around just in case if some ears were eavesdropping. Gon frowned, wondering what's the huge secret all about, and why was he telling it to Gon. Seeing the obvious confusion on the spiky-haired teenager, the fireman added, "He said, 'Give this paper to the boy who doesn't get hurt". That last sentence immediately had the puzzle in Gon's mind solved, excitement rush through his body as he read the words on the paper, written in block letters as if to emphasize it. _'AT THE END OF THE WORLD YOU SHALL FIND ANSWERS'_ .

Gon grinned. There was finally something exciting that might possibly lead them to his father. As he walked away form the scene of fire, he showed his friends the paper and discussed it with them. Soon. Soon enough.

END OF CHAPTER.

 **A/N : I am willing to answer any questions that you may have so feel free to PM or review your inquires. Thanks for reading, and as always, please review! I need some motivation to write. Also thanks again to RedRaptor for reviewing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	5. Chapter 4 (Part 1) : Six Years Ago

**A/N : Hi again my dear readers! I'm sorry for the late update, I haven't had the confidence to post this chapter because some parts of it just doesn't make any sense, but well, here it is. Also, this chapter is set six years before their encounter, if the title isn't obvious enough. And this chapter is terribly long, so I had to break it into two parts, I hope you don't mind. But on the bright side, you could expect more updates on Saturday or Sunday. Also, thanks to the readers who followed/favourited! I appreciate it more than I can put it into words. And also, to my dear reviewer,** ** _no account_** **, thank you so much! I appreciate that you like my story but please don't feel like you need to make an account because of me, because I'm just worried that this story don't go the way you want it to. Anyway, thanks again for the sweet review that had me smiling for the whole day!**

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CHAPTER FOUR : SIX YEARS AGO (Part 1)

"What a nice boy you are!" the brown-haired woman said, her lips bending into a wide smile as she gently patted Gon's head. The young boy with spikes for hair will be turning twelve in a few months, and he's already getting much taller than he used to be before. The cheerful young boy wore a pair of green shorts and a clean white shirt, both designed by Aunt Mito herself. The young boy grinned, his honey-coated voice replying in a heart-warming tone, "Thanks, Hara-san! I'm just glad to help!".

A couple entered the flower shop they were in, a familiar bell echoing in announcement of their visitor. Hara-san glanced over the customers before turning back to Gon. After heaving a sigh, she shoved her hand into the pocket of her apron and fished a small amount of money out. "How I wish you're my son instead of that drug addict,"she muttered, most probably to herself as she counted the notes in her hand. Gon watched, wide-eyed and curious – he'd never seen so much money in his life. It could probably the fact that he wasn't too wealthy to begin with, or Mito-san just didn't trust him with much money yet

With a soft smile on her aged face, she shoved a few bucks into his hand. "Here, thanks for your help, Gon". Gon frowned, looking down at the notes, there were tens and fives. What could he probably do with it? He couldn't even count it to begin with – he could've tried, but it would've taken forever, considering the fact that mathematics was probably Gon's biggest enemy yet. "Eh, I helped you because I wanted to, Hara-san. There's no need to pay me.

Plus, I don't even know how to spend this much money,"he said sheepishly, the bright smile never fading from his round face. He heard the woman laughed, light-hearted and warm. It's been a while since Gon had seen her this way, she'd been constantly stressed out ever since she found out that her twenty-four years-old son was a drug junkie.

"Silly boy, if you helped me because you wanted to, then I'll to reward you because I want to. Go ahead, spend the money however you'd like. I know you'll use it for something good,"Hara-san said, looking down at Gon with her dark eyes filled with affection. One of the customers called her, and just like that, her attention had been stolen. Gon looked back at the money in his small hands, before grinning and chirping a cheerful, "Thanks, Hara-san!" and exiting the flower shop through the back door. Gon practically skipped as he made his way down the street, noting that on this hot day, the island's main part was filled with tourists buzzing around with expensive-looking sunglasses and cliche tropical shirts.

The air smelt salty and the scent of fresh fishes linger through the air. It was still early in the morning, the older fishermen was just preparing to set off. "Hey, Gon!" one of them greeted, carrying a huge box made of polisterine. "Tell Mito I say hi!" he added, grinning and placing the load on the ground before wiping sweat off his face with the old towel around his neck. Gon replied with his usual cheerfulness, waving his hand towards the man's way.

As he continued to walk, more fishermen greeted him but Gon was still busy trying to figure out what to do with the money. There wasn't a particular thing that he wanted at the moment – sure, when he was younger, he thought about buying a toy car someday when he's got money, but as a much older boy, he wanted to use the money to make his aunt happy.

Sometime during midnight yesterday, Gon woke up and decided that he needed some water, only to find his aunt crying and sobbing alongside his grandmother. Gon couldn't name the strange feeling that clawed his heart as he took in the sight, his one and only aunt shaking as she sobbed into the palm of her hands, and there was nothing more Gon would've wanted at the moment that to make the woman feel better.

Mito-san was so nice, she didn't deserve to be hurt. "I don't know what to do anymore!" he heard the woman said through the tears rolling down her cheeks. "If I don't hand in the money by tomorrow, they might hurt you and Gon!". Hidden by the shadows, Gon frowned to himself as he continued to understand what his aunt was actually saying.

"But where can I find 10 000 Jennys?" Grandma's effort to calm her down seemed fruitless. The red-headed woman rubbed the temple of her forehead as she tried calmed down her breathing. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and looked at the old woman before her with a determination in her brown eyes. Mito-san was definitely a strong woman.

"I'll think of a way,"she announced after taking a deep breath. Without ever finding out that Gon had secretly eavesdropped on their conversation, she walked away. Gon hadn't been able to go back to sleep since then, his mind running wild, trying to think of a way to help his aunt with the burden she had been carrying on her delicate shoulders.

Gon looked back down on the notes in his hands – it's nowhere near the 10 000 Jenny Mito-san was talking about. Even if Gon wasn't quite smart when it comes to numbers, he was smart enough to know that 10 000 Jenny isn't an amount of money a flower shop owner would give away so easily. If only he could help. The least he could do was not to become the woman's worry – if only he was big enough that Mito-san wouldn't have to worry about him getting hurt.

The sun glared down on him from the sky, bullets of sweat dripping down his forehead down to his chin, before dropping off somewhere on the ground. From afar, Gon could hear the sound of a car gliding down the street, so he stopped and turned his head towards the noise only to see a huge red vehicle nearing.

It wasn't everyday that he was able to see a car here in Whale Island, so every time he sees one, he would stop to watch it pass by. The shiny red car paced smugly down the narrow street, seeming out of place at the small fishermen's island. Someday, Gon would buy a car like that and give it to his aunt as a gift so that she would never have to walk around the island by herself again.

It might just be a little boy's dream, but Gon knew if he worked hard enough and get out of the island, he could make his dreams come true. A soft whimper snapped Gon out of his stupor, he quickly whipped his head around to see an old dog, wounded and beaten, laying on the ground. It must be the older kids, teenagers, what he heard his aunt call them. He'd seen them beat a cat once, throwing rocks and kicking it for the mere reason that it wasn't cute enough. It made Gon mad whenever they would do something mean like that, just because they were bigger and stronger.

Gon wonders, people, when they gain a little power, why would they want to hurt people? Gon walked up towards the old dog and reached out to pat its head. Her head. It almost broke his heart when the dog closed her eyes, almost as if afraid that Gon would beat her up. The young boy gently placed his hand on her head, patting it with affection.

The way she looked at him, as if surprised that even humans could be so nice, made him grew angrier towards the Island's teenagers for daring to hurt the defenseless animal. Gon didn't know how he could forget the car that was coming his way, but the second he turned around, it was all too late. It happened way too fast for Gon to understand, and yet too slow for him not to think of anything.

Have you ever faced a situation where you could've died and everything seemed to happen in slow motion and yet, there's nothing you could do to stop it? Gon was having one of those moments. As the fiery red car neared his being, seeming slow in his eyes yet too fast for his brain, Gon wished one thing. Even if he would die today, he wished he could do something to help his aunt.

He regretted that he had never been able to help lessen her burden during the twelve years of his life. He wished he could have another chance to make things better, to make his dreams come true. Someday, he was going to surprise Mito-san with a car. He couldn't die yet. As the car hit him with full force, his fragile body was sent flying towards the other side of the road, crashing down onto the ground. Gon didn't feel hot anymore, the pain that resulted overpowering his senses.

His chest hurt. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. He coughed, and could taste the coppery taste of blood. He couldn't feel his legs, nor his left arm, but his right arm felt like it had just been cut open. Gon's vision started to blur, but the last thing he saw was the money he was holding earlier falling from the sky like rain on a hot day. He wished he could somehow give them to his aunt, even if it wasn't enough to help her. As his vision faded into black, Gon inhaled his last breath, it smelled a lot like copper more than he would like it to. And that's when his heart stopped beating.

Inside the spiky-haired boy's vein though, red blood cells divided and multiplied, too fast to be called normal. The epithelial cells of his skin regenerated themselves, growing over the fatal wounds and forming a new layer of tan skin spontaneously. The damage done to most his bones repaired themselves, except for those that protruded through his skin. In matter of seconds, Gon's amber-coloured orbs, lifeless and cold from the lack of life, gained it's warm colour, the sparkle in his eyes shone brighter than before as if to emphasize the fact that he's even more alive than before. Gon blinked, feeling air kicking into his lungs again in full force all too sudden, resulting to a coughing fit.

" _A-are you okay, boy_?" he heard someone ask in English. He tried to turn his head towards the source of the sound, but winced at the great amount of pain it resulted. A young blonde woman crouched at his side, skin unbelievably pale to have lived under the sun for too long. The woman seemed terrified, her cold blue orbs wavered in horror as she watched the boy. " _I- am ok_ ," he replied, his rustic English laced with a strong accent.

Gon pushed himself off the ground, feeling a sharp pain slice though his temple as he moved into a sitting position on the ground. " _You sure?_ " the foreign woman asked again, helping him to sit up in a straight position. He looked down to the bone jutting out from his knee, biting his lower lip as he pushed it right back into place. It hurt even more than it did when he touched it, but as soon as the bone was right in place, the pain was gone.

The wound on his knee closed itself, and the woman at his side could only gasp in amazement as Gon's leg healed itself. Gon's left shoulder seemed to be dislocated, so he pulled it back until he heard a relieving ' _pop_ '. He tried moving his shoulders in an invisible circle, as if trying it out, feeling weirdly great about it. His clean white shirt was now stained with dark red liquid, but otherwise, he was perfectly fine. Nothing on his body hurt anymore. He felt strong.

" _H-how_.." the blonde woman's voice died as she tried to comprehend what just happened before her – a boy coming back to life and healing himself. This thing was completely new to Gon too, the spiky-haired boy had no idea what to say. " _Herbs! Herbs I taken... Back from mountain_ ," he didn't know where he got that idea from, but the words came out from his mouth without his permission.

And the funniest thing was, that even an intelligent-looking tourist seemed to believe in the lie that Gon blurted up. Gon didn't like to lie, it never fails to make him feel bad, but it can't be helped anymore. " _I see! Boy, I am a herbalist looking for plants beneficial for health_ ," she started, fishing her pocket for a set of long, rectangular papers. She withdrew a pen form her bag and started jotting something down on the set of papers piled together like a note book.

When she was done, she tear the page off, handing it to Gon. " _Look, this is a huge sorry from me. Please take it. If you don't mind, please take me to the mountain_ ," the blond woman said, suddenly gaining a serious look in her eyes. Gon didn't even know what the woman was talking about, and was still trying to figure out what a herbalist was, but once he saw the numbers 10 000 on the paper, he couldn't help but smile and nodded.

23rd March 2010, Gon Freecs should've died. He had no clue how he was able to still be breathing after being hit by a car, but he sure was glad. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to bring home the 10 000 Jenny cheque with him.

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"More," he heard the cold, monotonous voice of his eldest brother instructed, watching him with the endless pit of an eye, his whole being still and almost lifeless. A twelve years old Killua scowled, glaring at the palms of his hands as if it could make the currents stronger. Both of his hands were clipped and connected with a new-looking ammeter, electrical current flowed through his palm naturally, like the blood in his veins, and moving the hand of the ammeter more towards the left. Sixty-nine milliamps. Was it still not enough? "It's enough to kill,"he muttered bitterly, but didn't have the courage to glare at the older man beside him. He was met with a silence, Illumi's eyes didn't even suggest that he was even thinking, but as he felt a strong grip on his left arm, Killua's gaze immediately dropped onto the floor.

How Killua wished he wasn't scared of Illumi. Killua was an assassin, strong and scary by his own rights, and nothing in this world could've scared him. Except Illumi, that is. Illumi's hand that gripped roughly on Killua's upper arm felt cold, and if more than anything, it felt lifeless. "69 mA is only enough to cause respiratory paralysis. You can paralyze your opponent and stop their breathing. But we are assassins," Killua hated the way the word 'assassins' came out from his brother's mouth, it sent shivers down his spine even though he've killed more than his blood-stained fingers could count. "We kill and run. If you can generate 1/10 of an ampere, you could kill your target within two seconds". Illumi let go of his arm, and Killua was too ashamed of himself to look up. How could he, who possessed the ability to generate electricity not know that?

"Having such a great power but not able to use it properly. That's more than insult to those who had to work hard to make themselves worth," he heard his brother mutter darkly, inaudible to most ears. Killua knew it. It must be the fact that he was chosen as the next heir of the family. In all honesty, Illumi could have that damn title if he wanted it so bad.

Like Killua wanted to lead a family of profesional assassins anyway. With a renewed determination, Killua generated more sparks of electrical currents through his palms and down to his fingers, forcing the ammeter to move it's measurement. 75 milliamps. He needed more. Forcing more waves of electricity through his hands, Killua frowned as he pushed himself further. Killua had just manifested his ability three days ago, his mother had been so excited about it that she even called his father on a dangerous mission just to inform him about it.

Killua was just lazing around in his room that evening, wasting his time playing some sniping game on his playstation and minding his own business when he accidentally blew the gadget up with electricity running through his hand. After a while, he was told about his ability as a genetically enhanced being, and that he could generate electricity, manipulate electrical devices and even move 1/3 the speed of light.

He'd been excited at first, but it was then that he found out that he wasn't going to be able to do anything unless he train. The training was much harder than ones that he'd gone through as an ordinary assassin, and he'd already passed out two times out of exhaustion throughout the course of three days. It's normal his mother said, but he can't help but feel weak. Killua hated being weak.

He hated the fact that he could do nothing but comply under the command of his brother. He wished, he could lead a life of his own someday, make his own decisions, and live in absolute freedom. Not yet, he convinced himself. He could change his fate later, but right now, he had to get stronger, even stronger than his brother, and even stronger than his father. They'll see, one day, freedom will be his. No one will be ordering Killua to kill anyone again and if he killed, he killed on his own accords.

As determination burned through his heart, electrical current spread through his entire body in a bright hot white light. It happened very fast, but as soon as the bright light fade away, Killua opened his eyes to see the ammeter completely destroyed, its remnants ashened and smoking. To Killua's surprise, Illumi have leapt a few centimeters away, though his face remained emotionless.

Killua tried but failed to hide the smirk growing on his face. He did it. He could really become strong if he wanted to. Someday, Killua will be strong enough to defeat his father, and by that time, even Illumi will be scared of him. Just wait.

* * *

The wind blew harshly again for the thousandth time of his life and it worsened Kurapika's mood even more. Something was wrong with him. Something was terribly wrong with him and he didn't even know what it was. He wished that there was someone he could talk to, that won't think he was crazy, and would believe him if he ever told them. The fifteen years-old Kurapika might be crazy, but the fact didn't explain how he actually froze a damn tree. That's it, he said it, he froze a damn tree. What was he? A modern male version of Elsa? Fate must be making a cruel joke.

Kurapika was just walking back from school, walking a good distance behind some seniors he didn't even know and doing a pretty good job in ignoring everything when he overheard one of them call out for him. He almost decided to walk away and pretending he heard nothing, and would've successfully done so had they not been blocking his way. So Kurapika glared up at them, wearing a sour expression as he silently dared them to say a thing. It's not like Kurapika couldn't respect those older than him, he just preffered not having to talk to anybody while he's in a bad mood. Wasn't it obvious that he was in a bad mood? Why would anyone want to suddenly talk to him when they never did before? Kurapika narrowed his eyes as suspicion washed over him.

He heard one of them clicked his tongue, the tallest one with the messiest black hair Kurapika had ever seen. "What's with the face? Not pleased to see us?" he said through a smug smirk. Kurapika had the urge to roll his eyes and and scream a big, fat YES into the older teenager's face, but settled down with a deadpan instead. "No". His reply seemed to have annoyed the other male, the tall, dark-haired teen's face turning red due to anger.

It seemed like he had worse anger issues than Kurapika. He seemed to have a few nasty words rolling at the tip of his tongue but was held back by a hand on his chest. Another wild-haired teenager, a tiny bit shorter but still towers over Kurapika, seeming to have a pair of intelligent-looking grey eyes. He seemed to resemble a Japanese and an American at the same time – pan-Asian, Kurapika would guess. He just had this kind of face and personality, that would've been able to charm anyone with just a single smile, but fortunately enough, Kurapika's mood was bad enough that he didn't care.

"The reason we called you, was just to ask a question," he said, his voice gentle and sweet with no accent at all and yet, there was something venemous about it. Counting Kurapika's silence as an ok, he added, "We heard that you were from the Kuruta clan. Is that correct?". The question didn't take more than a mere second to send Kurapika's mouth agape and his eyes wide. He's just glad that he actually bothered to put on his contacts that day.

"How did you know?" he asked, unable to help himself. No one was supposed to know about that, he'd even changed his last name just to make sure of the fact. How could someone Kurapika never met know something like that? Had someone spread the news? He'd be damned if he goes to school the next day and people were buzzing around about him being a survivor.

A fit of laughter rose from the group of three, and it made Kurapika wanted to break something. "My dad's the town's chief police officer. He read your record the other day". Of course, the guy's dad was a police officer. Who wouldn't have guessed? Judging from the way he carried himself, and the expensive-looking watch he was wearing, the wild-haired teenager must be someone from a respected family. And in the town Kurapika lived in, there's no one more respected than the town's chief officer. "Don't worry, you poor thing, I won't spill this information _that_ easily,"he said, and Kurapika wanted nothing more than to just wipe the smug grin off his face. What could he possibly want? He couldn't have wanted money, could he?

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice bitter and venomous, and yet, it only seemed to please the other male even more. This damn bastard, Kurapika decided, was sickeningly smart. Kurapika could see it in his eyes. "I want you to help me with something," he said, with a look in his eyes that Kurapika couldn't quite place. Half of the time, when Kurapika keeps silent, it means yes, but the other half, he meant no.

But right now, he didn't even know what to say as he followed the three teenager down to the town's little park, as deserted as always – this is the kind of town that kids wouldn't be wandering around in the evenings because of its reputation for kidnapping and other crimes. Once they reached a huge tree at the middle of the park, the intelligent-looking male ordered his friends to leave them alone. Ordered. And they did no more than little sounds of disappointment as they did so.

"The tree, if you could do something to just snap one of the branches without directly touching it, I'll be sure to keep my mouth shut," he said with a smirk, his hands shoved into his pockets. For the second time of the day, Kurapika's jaw dropped. "Are you crazy?". This boy had to be if he expected Kurapika to do something like that. Or could it be that he just wanted to spread the news so bad that he asked Kurapika to do something impossible to keep him quiet?

But Kurapika could tell, it was much more than that, looking at his eyes once again, Kurapika finally recognized that look. It's the look when you remember something you've lost. Or rather someone. Kurapika's eyes visibly softened for the first time of the day as he continued to look into the other boy's eyes. "I...have my reasons,"he admitted, his voice much softer than it was before.

Kurapika turned towards the tree again, and walked towards it. He had no idea how he was supposed to snap a branch without touching it. It's true that sometimes weird things just happens around Kurapika, like a garbage bin rolling on its own, the wind blowing harshly to almost the point of creating a storm, a door opening and closing by its own self – things that happens only when Kurapika was mad. But it's not possible that the other boy would know of something like that.

Or could he? He seemed to be the type who could see even the darkest part of people. He absent-mindedly traced a fingers on the surface of the tree trunk, wondering if he could ever do weird things like he always did without being mad. How he wished for a better life. He knows that there were probably people who've had it worse than him, but he couldn't help but wonder what would it be like if his family weren't dead.

The thought sent icy cold claws clutching his heart – he hated it whenever these stupid thoughts would just pop out of nowhere. Kurapika shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, but a gasp from somewhere behind him caught his attention. Kurapika craned his head around towards where his senior was standing, it seemed that the other boy was looking up at the tree in awe.

Kurapika frowned before turning his head back towards the tree, and felt his jaw drop down to somewhere on the ground yet again. Kurapika took a step back, looking at the tree up and down in shock. To his surprise, the tree seemed as if frozen, glazed with a layer of icy frost and topped with some specks of ice. Did he do that? It couldn't be – Kurapika had never frozen anything before.

"I knew it! My father was right!"the other boy exclaimed, fisting the air as if he'd just won a lottery. The pained look in his eyes was gone, replaced with sparkles of amazement and he'd gone from being scarily smart, to cheerful in just the matter of seconds. "I lied about my father," he said, and didn't fail to notice the annoyance in Kurapika's expression – Kurapika hated it whenever people would lie to him, he never lied – but ignored it and continued. "My father was a genetics expert! He made a discovery on genetically evolved human and made a list of them. No body believed him back then but you..." he said with a large grin, seemingly childish given his looks, "...are the prove! Now I can prove the world that my father wasn't crazy!".

Kurapika didn't know why, but for whatever reason seeing the other boy so happy makes him feel warm. Something about the past tense he used in his story was making him feel uneasy though. The older boy, who seemed cold earlier, walked closer towards Kurapika and took his hands energetically before saying, "Sorry for the harsh introduction – my name is Kaoru Hill, please allow me to do research on you". The change of mood was too sudden, Kurapika could barely even believe his senior as he shook his hand.

"Two years ago, my father was killed for a project called 'Human Genom project'. When I found the list of people with evolved with genetics, I just knew I was meant to end what he started. And on top of the list I found you,"he said, shifting back into his serious mode – how he could change from one completely different personality to another, Kurapika could never tell. But one thing he knew for sure, this guy here wasn't lying. He knows the pain of losing family and somehow, it made Kurapika felt less lonely – if that even made any sense. And for some weird reasons, Kurapika was willing to participate, "Okay, I guess I'll help you, with your research". The wild-haired male grinned yet again, warm and friendly. Feels like he made a friend. Little did he knew that it wouldn't last long.

 **A/N : OK, as you can see, I added an Oc into this story filled with OOCness. But fret not, my dear readers who hate Ocs! Kaoru Hill will be gone before you know it. So I hope someone could press the review button and tell me what they think of this chapter! Thanks again to those who favourited/followed, and especially to those who reviewed! Till the next part of this chapter!**


	6. Chapter 4 (Part 2) : Six Years Ago

**A/N : So, this chapter is a bit disappointing to me. At least I tried my best. Anyway, thanks to all the lovely readers who favourited/followed. And to the reviewers, thank you so much! I'm counting on reviews to give me some motivation I'm lacking.**

 **RedRaptor711 : Thanks for being my most consistent reviewer ever! Yeah, about the herbalist, everything about her will be revealed right here and right now. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

 **Sara Snow : Hi, thanks for reviewing! I love Killua too, but sometimes it's just hard to write his character. And yeah, don't worry, I hate OC-centric fics too, so I'm not going to do that, I hope. Hope you like the second part of this chapter! ;D**

 **Tegelpannan : Hi, thank you for the lovely review! I'm glad that you like it, I was worried that no one would. Here's the second part, so I hope you enjoy! ;)**

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR : SIX YEARS AGO (Part 2)

Dr Emma Wilcox leaned back into her office chair with a sigh, messaging her sore temple. Her pale blonde locks was held into a messy bun, her cold blue eyes tired and sore from the lack of sleep. She'd been lucky enough to have witnessed a miracle, but there was no way she could prove that it really happened. She was a scientist, she'd spent her whole life trying to explain things using science.

But now, she was met with a dead end as the human side of her clashed against the scientist part of her like two perfectly lethal swords against each other. According to the loving, kind human part of herself, Dr Emma should put the subject's own life before anything else. She sacrifice a boy for the sake of thousands, the other part of her seemed to hiss.

The incident that happened three days ago had opened her eyes to thousands of possibilities – spontaneous cellular regeneration might just be possible among human. When she hit the poor boy with her car – Gon Freecs, she'd learned the boy's name – she couldn't help but feel like she was a murderer. Seeing the boy laying in his own pool of blood, terribly wounded with bones jutting out everywhere – she almost screamed.

She quickly crouched down beside the boy, heart beating twice as fast as it should've, and fingers trembling as she reached out to the boy. She was a scientist, a good one at that, she should've been able to help even if she wasn't a certificated medical doctor. But there was nothing she could do as she watched the boy took in his last breath. She remembered hating herself at that moment, how she could've killed a boy and wasn't able to help him, even with her title as a philosophy doctor.

But then, just as she prepared herself to face this boy's family, tell them what she'd done, she heard the boy coughing. She remembered feeling her jaw dropping to the ground with a wet sound, and had to struggle to keep her widening eyes in it's socket – the boy was alive. She thought it must be by fate that the boy actually survived, but when he got up to sit and just freaking pushed his protruding tibia back into its place, she didn't know how to describe what she felt at that time, even if she could usually speak four different languages.

During the course of her forty-three year old life, never once had she witnessed something so extraordinary. Just like that, every single wound on Gon's body started to fade as if it was never there, and he walked out after being hit by a Ferrari unscratched. She asked the boy how he did it, and when he told her about some herbs in the woods, she immediately believed in him. One of Whale Island's main attraction was its thick unexplored rain forest jungles – unexplored meaning that there just might be anything there.

She quickly told the boy that she was a herbalist – the boys seemed naive and trusting so she decided that lying would be her best bet since, thanks to some unhelpful cartoons that portrays scientists as geniuses who plan to take over the world, most children were afraid of scientists – and in this particular case, she wasn't taking any chance. She was glad that there were no one passing by, no other witnesses that could prove that what she saw that day happened at all. Gon didn't seem to be holding any grudge – though in her opinion he should, for she was the one who hit him with a car – and lead her to the mountain he mentioned without much questions.

He showed her a few plants, most of them were still unfamiliar to the world, but after inspecting them for a while, Dr Emma decided that the herbs didn't cause the boy to regenerate. Call it a scientist's instinct, but she just knew there were something else, something that involved genetics, that enabled the Gon to heal himself. So she interviewed the boy, ask him about everything she could, about his eating habits, his life and his family. She considered meeting the boy's family for further investigation, but quickly decided against it.

She can't. She just can't do anything that could've hurt the boy after talking to him. The way he looked at her, with his bright eyes full of energy, how innocently naive he was – he was just to nice to be made an experiment subject. So instead, she took a sample of his blood and started studying it ever since, but haven't found anything yet. His O-type blood was normal, there was nothing that could've suggest that he could heal himself.

She checked it a few times, but still found nothing. She could've just recorded a video of the boy healing himself, but she couldn't bring herself to purposefully hurt the boy and show it to the world. She couldn't have done such a cruel thing, not to a boy as nice as Gon. "Is there something wrong, Emma-san? You look troubled," Gon said as the two of them stopped by a stream of river, the scientist being too tired to walk after venturing through the endless jungle of Whale Island.

The blond scientist wiped the sweat off her forehead, glaring back at the sun as she sat on a huge rock. "I just don't know what to do. If I do the right thing, then I might lose a once in a life time opportunity of finally being recognized. But doing the wrong thing for the sake of being known to the world just seem sick to me,"she said, hinting ever so slightly to the real topic. She heaved a sigh and watched as a pair of swallows flew across her vision, happy and free.

"If it was me, Emma-san. I would've done the right thing. And then I'll think of another way to become known,"the boy said, smiling warmly and looking right into her eyes with his bright pair of amber eyes. At that moment, the only thing that ran through her head was, how could a kid be so wise. She was an adult, and a scientist at that, but how come she couldn't see such a simple solution for her problem. Gon was just something else.

Back into reality, Dr Emma was starting to regret following the advice of a twelve-year-old as she couldn't seem to find another way to solve this problem. Absent-mindedly tapping her pale, thin fingers on her desk, she started to re-think everything. The boy could regenerate, he could walk out of a deadly situation without a single scratch. How was he able to do so? Dr Emma was nowhere near the answer to that question. Suddenly recalling Gon's words, she tried to think of another question, rather than an answer.

How could the discovery of Gon's ability help human being? If this was an old-fashioned silent cartoon, a bright bulb would've lit up above the scientist's head. If he could heal himself, then could it be possible that he could heal others too? Dr Emma got onto her feet and walked across the room towards the boxes made of glass that was lined on the wall.

There were five glass cages containing five little white mouses, Dr Emma picked the one at the middle and brought it up back to her place. She didn't hesitate before poisoning it, watching the tip of the medical syringe disappear into the white mouse's body. It was better than hurting Gon, she decided. It didn't take too long before the poor mouse took it's last breath. For the sake of science, and the future generation, some lives ought to be sacrificed.

She seized the drawer of her desk and retrieved a small bottle containing thick red liquid before grabbing yet another syringe. After making sure only a quarter of the blood inside of the container was carefully moved into the syringe, she wasted no time in injecting what once was a white mouse. Setting the syringe aside, she watched, and waited.

Nothing happened. She frowned, still hopeful that the boy's blood could heal. But there was also a possibility that the boy could only heal himself. She was starting to lose hope when she thought she saw slight movement at the mouse's little feet. She continued watching, focusing solely on the dead animal to the point that she forgot to breath and opted to hold her breath instead. She couldn't describe the feeling that washed over her as the lab mouse opened it's tiny eyes, looking at her before getting up and run.

"I did it!" she screamed. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been so excited. She pulled the telephone near her and started to dial a set of numbers, but when she put the telephone near her ear, she could hear nothing, not even a beep. She rolled her eyes – what a perfect timing to have the telephone not working. She picked her iPhone up, and was just about to punch in the pin number for her lock screen when she felt something move behind her.

She whipped her head around, but there was nothing. She ignored whatever it was, going back to her phone, deciding that it might be the mouse from earlier. She scrolled down her list of contacts just as the lights in the room flickered, perfectly in-sync with each other. She looked around the room. That was weird. She'd been working alone in that room for more ten years. Nothing like this ever happened before.

She couldn't help the goosebumps that formed on her skin, nor how the hair at the back of her neck stood up. Something was wrong. Dr Emma had never believed in ghosts before, being a scientist capable of explaining almost anything logistically, but suddenly, at that moment, she felt like she wasn't alone in the room. She might be going crazy when she thought she saw something move at the corner of her eye.

She looked around the room frantically, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had never wanted to get out of the room like she did now. Swiping her key card off her desk, Dr Emma made a dash towards the electronic door. She had been scared before, a lot of times, a lot of different fears. But nothing ever made her _this_ scared. As her fingers trembled, she tried hard to swipe her key card into place like she did everyday, something told her that she might not be able to get out. It didn't make sense, but it was just a hunch.

She didn't notice what made her body grow cold. She felt a sharp pain slice through her chest as she struggled to breath. She would've jumped out of her skin if she could as she noticed the wound on her chest, right where her heart should've been. It was not there – it was, seconds ago, beating like crazy, but now it's gone.

As life ebbed away from her, she let herself fall on the cold floor with a loud thud, a thousand things running round her head at the same time. She wished she had more time. To make more discoveries, show the world what she could really do. As a middle-aged woman, the thought of death crossed over her a lot, but nothing could've prepared her for this. As she struggled for her final breath, a small figure made its way into her blurring vision – a kid. A freaking kid. The last thing she saw before she left her body was flashes of silver hair.

* * *

"Gon, take the cookies out of the oven, please?" Mito-san asked, a wet clean fabric in her hand as she continued to dry the laundry. Twelve-year-old Gon Freecs had been playing alone at the backyard, clothes dirtied and bare feet. He immediately went into the kitchen through the back door, but not before replying a loud, cheerful, "Okay!".

The kitchen was small, a brown wooden kitchen cabinet lined against the wall, an oven and a small refrigerator. The alluring smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that dominated the air roused Gon's hungry stomach. There was a pair of blue baking gloves sitting on the counter, Gon reached out for it before pausing. It's only been three days since Gon died before coming back to life again, he'd been testing himself out since then.

He jumped down the cliff to see if he'll die – a few fractured bones, his rib cages jutting out from his chest and a dislocated shoulder, but as soon as the pain wash over him, it was gone, like it was never there at all. Not a single scratch. He secretly tip toed into the kitchen in the middle of the night and stabbed himself in the chest, exactly where his heart should've been, and remembered collapsing on the floor in blood before getting the kitchen knife out of his chest and getting back to normal again.

Cleaning the kitchen from his blood hadn't been easy, but it was somehow the only way he could feel satisfied. He felt powerful, he felt special. He wanted to use this miracle of an ability to help, probably save the world like in those superhero comic books – spiderman, superman, and all characters that ends with 'man'. But he had no idea how. When he told Mito-san that he'd died and was able to regenerate, she looked angry for some reason that Gon didn't know.

"I've never taught you to become a liar,"he remembered hearing her say, rage laced in every single word. Whenever he would talk about it, Mito-san gets upset, so he eventually stopped. It didn't stop him from trying to kill himself, though. He felt as if there were things that Mito-san kept from him, even before he found out the fact that he was unkillable, but Gon never had the heart to ask the red-haired woman. He didn't want to see her upset.

So, wide-eyed and filled with curiosity, Gon opened the oven door, the heat radiating from inside the oven can be felt even from the distance. He didn't hesitate when he reached on to the hot metal of the baking tray, the pain that burned through his skin almost made him drop the cookie-filled tray. Gon didn't wincing as he quickly placed the tray on the counter, flapping his hands in the air as if it would cool the pain down. He stared at his open palm, the tips of his fingers and most part of his hand bright red, but the pain was starting to disappear.

It didn't take longer than two seconds before the burn marks faded into the tan colour of Gon's skin, the pain was no longer stinging on his skin. He grinned, feeling invincible – he most probably was. Celebrating his victory, Gon snatched one of the hot chocolate chip cookies and nibbled on them as he walked back towards the backyard. The outside air was unbearably hot, but it was nothing like the heat from the hot baking tray Gon felt earlier.

Compared to that, the summer heat was heavenly. He heard faint chatters from where he was standing, under the shade of the roof in the backyard and couldn't help the feeling that passed through him. Dread. Gon wasn't always able to make hunches, but it was at moments like this, when something bad would happen, he just smelled the danger. He rushed towards where his aunt was supposed to be and cocked his head from behind the wall. Two men, tall with brood shoulders and muscle-bound figures, dressed in black leather clothing towered over his red-haired aunt, smug grins on their scarred faces.

Gon hated the way they looked over his aunt, something about it never failed to make Gon feel the urge to swipe that smug grin out of their faces. He felt hatred burn through him as he stepped closer towards the three adults, his earth-coloured eyes flashing with something that he never radiated before. Confidence. "Gon, get back into the house," the red-head said through gritted teeth, her voice dripped with the tone that Gon translated as a warning.

Gon shook his head, stubborn and determined. Nothing could hurt him – for the first time in forever, he'll do something to save his aunt. These guys, now that he was up close, was the ones that demanded 10 000 Jennys from his aunt yesterday. What could they possibly want from them anymore? "Mr Gordon wants to see you," one of them said, bald and pale with a scar running down his left cheek. Mito-san put down the basket she was previously holding, crossing her arms in a defensive stance as she said, "My debt with him has been settled. We have no more deal".

The bald man seemed to have expected the answer, seeming rather passive as he said, "He has an offer for you". Gon had no idea what he meant, but what ever it was made Mito-san mad. "Go. I don't want any business with that man," the red-haired woman said, turning around and resuming on drying the laundry, bending down to pick up the basket.

It was when one of the man – the one with spiky black hair and a pierced nose – grabbed onto his aunt's arm forcefully did Gon snapped, stepping between the two and glaring up at the much bigger man. Both men laughed, their smug laughter soon turned into a snort. "Whaddya wanna do, brat? Kick my ass to save your auntie?" the bald man said, his friend snickering beside him. He felt Mito-san's hand on his shoulder, attempting to pull him away, but Gon didn't budge.

"Gon, get back into the house. Now," she repeated. He pretended not to hear those words. He remained in his position, glaring at the much bigger men and daring them to try and hurt him. He heard one of them click their tongue, "Lil' brat got some nerve. Here's the deal, if you can scare me away, I'll never bother your sweet little aunt anymore." Gon immediately nodded, feeling the adrenaline rush through him in quick pumps, excitement blooming somewhere in his chest as he turned away and grabbed Mito-san's hands, much gentler than the bald man did, albeit with a little force.

"Gon-" the woman started, her voice reprimanding as Gon dragged her back towards the house. "I know what I'm doing. Promise you won't peek out the window," he said, offering his pinky finger for the woman. "Gon, I-" whatever the red-haired woman seemed to want to say died on her tongue as the young boy's eyes looked up into hers in courage, pleading yet intimidating at the same time. How he was able to manage that, the gaze that no one was able to resist, even Gon himself didn't know.

Gon could be pretty convincing when he wanted to. He walked out of the house, pretty sure that Mito-san won't dare to look out of the window, half because Gon said not to, and half because she wouldn't dare to look at the result of giving into the boy's plead. "What, kid? You don't want your aunt watching while we beat you into pulp? Once you're all beaten up, that woman will not be able to turn up any offers anymore," the huge guy with spiky black hair said, grinning as he showed the twelve-year-old boy his fist, teeth rotten and yellow.

Gon smiled, innocent and confident, "You can beat me up if you want to, but you could never hurt me". The situation was deadly, but deep in himself, Gon felt alive, like breathing the air that smelt of danger was a life he was born to live in. The man seemed to be angered, gritting his teeth as he threw his fist, hitting Gon square in the face. Gon had been agile ever since he was little, he could've jumped away, but he didn't. He took the full force of the blow, his head was thrown back as a result, Gon felt a sharp pain at the bridge of his nose, blood dripping down onto his face.

Gon regained quickly, wiping blood off of his face and pulling back his nose back into place. He looked back at the raven-haired man, smiling – in situation in which he should've smirked, but hasn't learned how to yet. "You're tougher than you look, kid," the bald one said, as he drew a knife form inside his leather jacket, flashing his rotten teeth as he grinned. "But not for long," he lunged forward, and Gon made no effort to duck.

Gon felt the sharp tip of the knife cut through the soft skin of his cheek, the pain it brought stung and washed over his head in quick waves. Gon didn't budge, staring intently at both of the men as the wound on his cheek closed itself. "You cannot hurt us," he said, watching the men gasp and back away. It was funny how a healing wound could scare two grown-up men. One thing about adults is that, they all share the same fear – difference. They don't want to be different from what a society calls normal, and anything out of the ordinary aren't real.

Children like Gon, who believes in destiny, who still think that being different makes him special, in some way or another, are much more mature than most adults. The two men left, and Gon tried to explain the truth to his aunt, but she refused to listen. Gon had a feeling that she actually knew what Gon was talking about, but was afraid to admit the truth. That's another thing about people who lives in the real world, they are afraid to learn the truth. Gon's lucky he wasn't born to live in a world like that.

* * *

"Anything yet?" Kaoru Hill heard the blond ask, from his position at the sofa. The dark-haired male sighed, tapping on the 'Enter' button on his keyboard a few times before getting off his chair with a sigh. Kurapika sat obidiently on the sofa of his apartment, thin, white wires connected to his head.

"No. Nothing about your neurological system suggests that you're one of them," he said, gently undoing the wires one by one. He'd done at least three different types of tests on Kurapika and yet, was still unable to come up with anything at all. He needed something, a reason behind human's advanced genetical evolution, something his father was unable to come up with while he was still alive.

He let himself fall into the spot on the sofa next to the blond, heaving yet another sigh. "Maybe I'm not,"the other boy replied, crossing his arms, something that Kaoru noticed he'd been doing whenever he was upset. "Nonsense, we both saw what you could do. You're gifted," he said, messaging the temple of his forehead with a thumb – he was already starting to get dizzy from all of this, even if he was a genius since birth.

Kurapika made a face, seeming rather annoyed when he said, "Gift? Is it what you call this _thing_? A gift". Kaoru ran a hand through his black spikes. Kurapika seemed to have a very negative point of view on this genetic evolution thing. "Of course. What do you call it?" he replied, nonchalant. The younger boy beside him looked away, choosing to pin his gaze on the television instead.

"Private Freak Show,"he muttered under his breath. Kaoru couldn't help but heave another distressed sigh, scooting closer towards the blond and nudging into his rib cages. "Hey, look at me," he said. "This thing, is given by God to you of all people. He could've given it to me, to my father, to the person who lives next door, to anyone. But he gave it to you, it's what makes you special,"he said, finding himself trying to convince Kurapika that his ability was special for the third time in three days.

"But I don't want this...whatever it is. There's something wrong with me – your father listed me off as being telekinetic, but I just froze a damn tree!I'm not good in this... super power thing, but I do know that telekinesis and cryokinesis are worlds apart," the blond argued, getting onto his legs and pacing around the room. Kaoru was about to reply when he heard a beep coming from his main computer, he got up and made his way towards the screen.

"My father just might be wrong about that. Maybe your ability is cryokinesis – or something else entirely,"he said as he frowned at his computer's screen, noting that the temperature had dropped several degrees. The whole room had been set to immediately detect any changes at all, and one of the many discoveries he'd made about Kurapika was that the temperature drops whenever he's upset, and increases when he's angry.

"That's what I'm saying, my ability is something else, and something's wrong with it," the blond said, standing behind the window, staring towards the grey sky. Kaoru frowned as the temperature continued to drop, cold enough that he needed to rub his hands together to keep warm. "Listen. You might not want this ability, and maybe you don't even need it," he said as he approached the blond's slight figure near the window. "But someday, in the future, someone might need you and your ability. And you need to learn to accept your ability so that someday, when that person shows up, you can use your ability".

Kurapika wasn't going to back down from an argument without giving his all to win, but Kaoru could see that he was slowly starting to give in. After a moment of silence, Kurapika finally heaved a sigh, facing the older boy with a defeated look on his face. Kaoru felt childish for being so happy about winning an argument, but this was Kurapika he's talking about – even a genius like himself could lose to the stubborn blond. Flashing a toothy grin, the wild-haired boy said as he folded his arms behind his head, "Trust me, I'm a genius".

A look Kaoru couldn't put his fingers on crossed the blond's features, he averted his eyes and looked back outside the window. "I need to get back now,"he said, slowly making his way towards the door. Kaoru quickly followed, albeit much more energetically. "Wait, take this with you,"he said as he reached towards the thick blue book on the counter before shoving it into the blond's hands. 'ENDLESS EVOLUTION' the title read, the cover dark blue with a picture of deoxyribonucleic acid. It was the last book his father wrote, one that he read a thousand times, trying to understand everything he could about human's genetic evolution.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" Kaoru asked, despite knowing that such a question annoys the blond to no end. The blond rolled his blue eyes, crossing his arms again. "I walk home everyday, Kaoru. I'll be fine," he said as he seized the door of Kaoru's apartment. "Be careful". The blond rolled his eyes again, but said nothing as he walked away. Kaoru figured out two days ago that Kurapika just don't do goodbyes or anything close to it. Every time he leaves, he'll walk away without saying a thing, not even looking back.

Kaoru watched as the blonde figure disappear behind the elevator doors. He felt as if they would never see each other again. As Kaoru turned to close the door, a sudden thought crossed Kaoru's mind. If the blond's mood affects the temperature and the wind at the same time, wasn't it obvious that his ability was something that has to do with the weather? Seriously, just how dumb could a genius be? He hurried towards his computer and started typing almost immediately. His father hasn't discussed anything about weather manipulation but anything just might be possible. As Kaoru continued to type his time away, he failed to notice when a young silver-haired boy entered his apartment through the front door.

* * *

This mission was at least a bit suspicious, but Killua asked no question. That's the system – when someone asks you to kill someone, you do it without questioning it. But it didn't mean that Killua cannot speculate, though. Dr Dylan Hill, Dr Emma Wilcox and Kaoru Hill – they were among the humans he was assigned to kill by none other than the Hunter's Association itself, a shadier part of the association. It wasn't everyday that he was assigned by the world's biggest post-human organization in the world, so he couldn't help but wonder, why would they ask a Zoaldyeck to do the dirty job for them. He'd been instructed to kill them however he'd like, as long as he burn the entire building down when he's down.

This is the third target from the Hunter's Association, a young prodigy and son of Dr Dylan Hill, whom Killua killed seven months ago. It was quite obvious now, why would Hunter's Association want to kill these people – they were at the verge of discovering it's top secret. According to the Hunter's Association, the existence of post-humans among the crowd aren't to be exposed, but Killua was pretty sure that no matter what they do or whom they kill, the news was going to leak soon.

They can't keep what they are a secret forever. Killua watched as a blond boy walk out of his target's apartment, paying Kaoru Hill's word no mind at all. Killua waited until the genius was safe inside his apartment before entering through the front door. Geniuses are stupid, Killua decided as he discovered the fact that the young prodigy left the door unlocked. The dark-haired teen was sitting before a computer, hands quickly punching in the letters on the keyboard as he remained oblivious towards Killua's presence.

Killua's footsteps were never heard of as he walked closer towards his target, fingers manipulated into a set of claws. He was seconds away from decapitating his target when the older boy whipped his head around, catching Killua off guard. So, he wasn't as stupid as Killua originally thought he was. The young man jumped in his seat in surprise, but quickly calmed down and grabbing a gun from under his desk.

The look in his eyes quickly turns into a cold, calculating stare as he pointed his gun at Killua. He'd seriously underestimated this guy. The dark-haired boy seemed calm as he questioned, "Who sent you?". Killua smirked – it's been a while since he comes across a prepared target like this, most of his killings these days won't notice him until they're dead. The silver-haired assassin shoved his hands into his pockets as he replied, "Hunter's Association". He wasn't supposed to tell, but this guy wasn't going to live long enough to spill it out.

The dark-haired male slowly raised himself from his sitting position, still aiming his gun towards Killua. It was actually pretty impressive, most people would let their guards down around Killua, because he was a kid – even Dr Dylan Hill did so. "You mean, 'Hunter's Inc'? The paper company?" he asked, proving the fact that he was very much intelligent.

Not everyone could just relate Hunter's Association to a paper company. "The paper thing's their cover,"Killua said, spilling yet another valuable information. Perhaps the young genius knew what Killua was capable of despite being handicapped in this situation, unarmed, but he pulled the trigger without a second thought. Killua was fast enough to have dodged the bullet, even if it was just a mere centimeter. He was too lazy to have jumped away.

It would be a fun way to die, Killua decided, if the young prodigy could witness what Kilua's new-found ability could do, since he risked his own life conducting experiments involving post-humans. Killua smirked as he raised a hand, a ball of white hot electricity generated through his palm. Killua saw the prodigy's mouth fell open, eyes watching in amusement and awe as the assassin threw the ball of electricity his way. Killua watched as the older boy's limp, burned down body fell lifelessly to the ground with a loud thud.

Killua hadn't had much experience with guns, since his family very much preferred not to use any weapons, so just for the fun of it, Killua shaped his hand into a gun and shot an imaginary bullet of electricity at the computer, effectively creating fire. Killua may be an assassin, but he was still a kid, nonetheless. So, with his child-like playfulness, Killua blew some air into the top of his imaginary gun before disappearing from the crime scene.

* * *

 **A/N : Hope it makes sense. I'm having trouble though, for the future chapters. There should be a lot of new characters showing up so that I could set the plot into place, but I just don't know who. I'm planning to give the little roles of HxH a place in my fics, but I have no idea how. I would appreciate if you'd help me? Pretty please? If there's a character that you like and want them in this story, can you please help me with their abilities? And of course, Hisoka's going to make his entrance soon, and yet, I still haven't figured out what his ability is. Reviews are appreciated, thank you.**


	7. Chapter 5 : Troublemakers

**Hi, sorry for being so ridiculously late. I hate excuses so I'm going to tell none. I want to give my sincerest thank you to 74ThatOneBlondeOtaku52 for her review. Alright, on with the story, I hope I don't disappoint you.**

CHAPTER FIVE : TROUBLEMAKERS

 _[Pokkle , 03.43 a.m. , York New City]_

It was dark in the spacious room, filled with paintings of all sorts, buckets of paints and bundles of paintbrushes scattered all over the floor. Shadows crept up the plain beige-coloured wall, looming over the paintings like the night sky that stretched above the city. Dim fluorescent light spilled through the windows from the outside, lighting the room just barely enough for one to see after adjusting to the darkness. A young man sat in the shadows, sweating bullets as he stroked his paintbrush over the white canvas, his brown hair tied into a low ponytail.

A pallet in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, Pokkle didn't notice the time that ticked by as he continued painting. It was in the middle of the night did he woke up, sweating and panting from a peculiar dream – he couldn't help it when the urge to express his jumbled up mind through painting became too strong. He got up from bed, and wasted no time in gathering his painting equipment up, and had barely even took his eyes from the painting since then. A shadow crept up the canvas, looming over him in the dim light but he didn't budge. "What are you doing?" came a sleepy voice from behind him, and he didn't need to turn his head to find Ponzu standing behind him in her night gown.

Had he not been painting such a significant image, he would've turned to her with a smile and answered. But he could not – he was afraid he'd lose the image in his head, every colour, every stroke, he couldn't risk it. This painting was important, he could feel it as adrenaline rushed through him in quick pumps, as if this was a matter of life and death – it might as well be. With a sigh, Ponzu pulled a stool from under a table and sat beside the brown-haired man. She said nothing as she watched him add some depth into his painting, going from dark red to brown.

It was one of the best things about Ponzu – she was always there, always waiting, and understanding his mind even when he fail to do so. The young woman kept quiet as the image started to become clearer on the canvas, every detail added with perfection. As Pokkle stood up, finishing his painting, he took a few steps back and tried to heave a relaxed breath but failed as it came out sounding like a gasp. On the once white canvas was the figure of a young boy, lying in a pool of blood with his eyes wide open. The creepiest detail in the picture was the young boy's head, seeming as if it'd been cut open and the brain was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh my..." he heard Ponzu gasp behind him. "Do you think it's real?" she asked, inching closer towards him, reaching one hand out to hold Pokkle's cold and clammy ones. "My painting never lies," he said in alarm, but Ponzu's warm fingers that intertwined with his sent soothing waves throughout his entire body. Pokkle knew from experience, that knowing what would happen in the future could be the most useless thing in the world, if nothing can be done to change it. He knew somewhere deep inside him that he was meant to help, even if his role was little, he was meant to help save the world. His deep brown eyes darted towards the huge painting on the floor, various tones of striking orange and red blended together and gave the illusion of a deadly explosion.

Even if Pokkle could supposedly paint the future, he felt as if having this particular ability was pointless – numerous times, whenever Pokkle would paint the images of unfortunate car accidents, it happens, and without a doubt, Pokkle was useless in stopping them. York New was going to explode, and there's nothing he could do about it. Still, there was still chance for him and Ponzu to move out of the city, somewhere safe and far away – but something deep inside him wished he could freely tell everyone that, so that the residents of the city could be evacuated, and hopefully, no one gets hurt. But it's useless – like anybody would believe him if he said that he could paint the future. If he could, then he and Ponzu would be bathing in money right now, selling away all those paintings with ridiculous prices.

He felt a soft, warm hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see the most calming sight he'd ever had the chance to witness – Ponzu's aquamarine eyes, glistening in the dark and shone with a glint of determination. "Why don't we try? The least we could do is try and convince everyone that it's bound to happen someday," she said, and Pokkle felt a smile tug on his lips. He nodded – even if people wouldn't believe what they have to say, at least they can say they've tried.

* * *

 _[Leorio Paladiknight, 11.25 pm, Hallow Street, Triangle City]_

The night was particularly dark, the pitch black sky that hovered over the outskirts of Triangle City was starless, and the crescent moon shone behind a cluster of dark clouds. The streetlights that was lined along the empty streets flickered weakly, doing a bad job in lighting the streets up. Leorio walked alone, gusts of cold wind accompanied him as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his dark suit, cursing at how cold it was. If Leorio recalled correctly, there was never a night so cold here in the small city he lived in, and he usually had to bear sweating through the night, as he couldn't afford to get an air conditioner.

Something black and quick ran pass him, and Leorio couldn't help but jump back in alarm. Confirming that it was nothing but a rat, Leorio sighed as he walked away, pacing forward as he tried to keep himeself warm. It hadn't been this cold when he got off from the bus, so it's just this place. Leorio looked around, suddenly feeling a cold shiver running down his spine. Perhaps it was just his feeling and maybe after a long night of working, he could really use a deep night's slumber soon. As he walked closer towards his own apartment building, Leorio immediately froze when he heard the voice of a young boy whisper through the night.

Almost by habit, Leorio concealed himself, his six-feet tall lanky figure efficiently disappearing into thin air, completely invisible any naked eyes. It was freaky – ever since high school, Leorio found out that, as absurd as it was, he could become invisible as he wishes. He never told anyone, keeping the absurdity to himself for the sake of not freaking his parents out – he could imagine his mother passing out as she witness his son become invisible. It was only natural that Leorio snuck up behind everyone most of the time. Invisible, that's what he was, even without making any effort. No one could see him, and even at times he allowed people to, no one would look into his eyes like he was anything worth looking at.

Leorio tip-toed towards the source of the hushed voice – it was no use that he could not be seen if he can't keep quiet. And Leorio personally enjoyed creeping his enemies of by knocking things off while he can't be seen, just so that he could see their freaked out faces, no matter how childish it might sound. "Where do you think the end of the world is?" the bright voice of a young boy inquired. As Leorio paced closer towards the stairs, the voices became clearer. Peeking from behind the wall towards the flight of stairs that lead upstairs, Leorio was greeted with the sight of two teenagers sitting on the staircase with heavy bags at their feet. There was a lump under a thick, dark violet blanket on the stairs behind the two boys, and judging by how it heaved up and down as if breathing, Leorio could only guess that it was yet another teenager.

Three teenagers, in the middle of the night, down his apartment. He'd never seen them around before, and one of the two conversing teenagers had fluffy silver locks, looking like he couldn't have come from this country. "It could be the name of a shady pub, for all we know,"the silver-haired teen shrugged, taking a bite of the half-eaten dark chocolate in his hand. The other boy, with dark skin and an unruly mop of spiky black hair, suddenly looked around in alarm as he perked his nose up, sniffing the air and frowning in confusion. "Killua, I can smell someone other than you and Kurapika, but I can see no one here," he said, catching Leorio off guard. Almost instantly, Leorio felt the urge to lift an arm up and sniff under his armpit, but stayed in place as he continued to watch the two teenager. Did he really smell _that_ bad?

A surprised look flashed on the silver-haired teenager's awfully pale face as he eyed his friend suspiciously. "You noticed to?" he asked. The other boy nodded eagerly before getting onto his feet and walked past Leorio, the latter struggled to gulp the lump in his throat as he stayed as still as he could. He didn't even trust himself to breathe. "I've dealt with someone like you before. I heard that some electric should make you visible enough," Leorio heard a quiet voice behind him, the sudden words making him jump away with a loud squeak. It was that silver-haired kid – when did he get behind Leorio? At some time during Leorio's jump of surprise, he lost his focus and failed to stay in his invisible form. Shit.

"Are you alright, sir?"Leorio looked up to see the concerned face of the dark-haired boy, and couldn't help but helplessly nod. Leorio was in shock above anything else – they could now see him, and they weren't surprised? He brushed off the dust on his dark blue suit, frowning as he did nothing but stare at the two young boys. "Is everyone in this world turning into freaks, or is it just a coincidence that we keep running into post-humans?" the silver-haired teenager muttered, his features did nothing to hide the annoyance radiating through him. "Huh?" That was all he could manage to say, as he stared dumbfoundedly at the two boys. At some point, the sleeping figure must've woken up, because the only person at the stairs was a blond teenager, blonde hair tousled up from sleep.

"My name's Gon, the white-haired one is Killua, and the blond is Kurapika. We are all like you, so you don't need to worry," the dark-haired boy – Gon – said, flashing his perfectly white teeth as he grinned. The cheerful grin was wiped off his face as Killua hit his head, not hard enough to have hurt him, but with enough force that the other boy was now holding his head in pain. "Ow, Killua... What's that for?" Gon demanded as he pouted, rubbing the sore spot on his head as the other boy shrugged. "Idiot. Don't go telling people our names and what we are. And my hair is _not_ white! It's silver, you nincompoop!" he said, voice dripping with annoyance. Gon did nothing but blink, which got into Killua's nerves even more.

"Silver and white are of the same colour, aren't they?" the boy in green cotton shirt asked, looking perfectly serious as he said that. "No, Gon. Silver and white aren't the same. But I think Killua's hair is white too," came a quiet voice from the blond boy, and Leorio could swear that Killua couldn't possibly get angrier. "Hey, I don't get what's going on here!" he said suddenly, effectively earning himself attention, and he wondered if his voice was really that loud.

Three teenagers stared at him, their gazes almost boring holes through his head. He suddenly felt older than he was. "I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm calling the cop,"he said, fumbling to get the cellphone at the bottom of his pocket. They could be runaways for all he knew, but they certainly seemed suspicious. Leorio was in the middle of turning his phone on when it was snatched away from his hand, too fast to have been done by a human being.

"What the heck? You sneaked up on us and you're going to call the cops? Your brain must be rotten, old man," Killua said, lifting Leorio's phone up in the air and inspecting it. "When did you get this phone anyway – I thought that it's already extinct". That was all it took to strip Leorio out of the patience he always thought he had. He could feel the vein on his forehead popping and he could literally feel the fire burning in his whole being. That was far off the line.

"What's your problem?! I swear I'm only 19, dammit!". Leorio expected the teenagers to run, or at least bark at him, but their reaction was unexpected. Three teenagers stared at him dumbfoundedly, mouths hanging open and eyes widened. Time ticked by as the silence dragged on, draping them like a thick blanket and Leorio could even smell the awkwardness lingering in the air.

"That's a joke, isn't it?"One of them breathed, and Leorio was very much overwhelmed by his own anger to have noticed who. He fished his pocket for his wallet, almost tearing up the brown leather as he displayed his identification card for all too see, mumbling intangible words under his breath as another stupified silence hung in the air. Leorio counted to ten, breathing in and out before finally calming down. It wasn't their fault, it might be the darkness that concealed Leorio's features that made him look older than he was, or it might be the fact that he was tired and sleepy that it caused him to look old. As if a switch had been turned on, the three teenage boys started going off, as if a time bomb inside them exploded. "That's amazing! I don't know that someone could look so old and still be young!". "Holy shit!". "Oh, God.. He's my age".

The embarassment that coursed right through him was unbearable, and trying to mask it with a fake anger wasn't at all easy. Leorio has always been a nice guy – even if people keep saying that he's too loud or that he's short-tempered, Leorio was a nice guy deep inside – but at the moment, murder sounded wonderful to him, and the temptation was almost impossible to resist. "Kids should learn respect! How could you ever accuse a man as young as myself of being old?!" he said as he stomped his feet in frustration, not caring that his action seemed childish. Gon smiled sheepishly, raising his hands up in the air in surrender as he attempted to calm the raging man down. "I'm sorry, I was just shocked. I didn't mean to make you angry," he said, his face shifting into an apologetic expression.

Leorio looked away with a huff – at least someone was decent enough to apologize. While the spiky-haired boy seemed sorry enough, his friends certainly wasn't. "Anyway, cutting to the chase, what did you say again, about you being like me?" Leorio said, struggling to put his anger behind and get straight to the point. He really wanted to know, and he wasn't going to let his anger and other annoying, unnecessary things disrupt it.

Gon visibly lit up, grinning again as he said, "That's right! We are all like you – we are special! Isn't it wonderful that all of us met each other! It must be destiny!". Was there something wrong with this kid, or he really seem like a character from Leorio's childhood favourite cartoon? The way he speak and the energy that radiated from him made Leorio feel as if the other boy was shining.

Rubbing at the temple of his forehead, Leorio heaved a sigh as he paced forward. "Okay, whatever you say. I'm going. If I find you here next morning, I'm going to tell the cops that you lot ran away from home,"Leorio muttered under his breath as he ascended the stairs, wanting nothing but to lie on bed and never wake up again. Wait, he didn't really mean that. It was when Leorio was two steps away from the second floor, that Leorio heard a loud, foreign grumbling sound. Leorio whipped his head around – there was nothing behind him. Nothing but three teenagers laughing out loud. "Dude, just how hungry are you?" he heard Killua's smooth voice echo through the cold night air, and it took everything in him not to just turn around and invite the boys for dinner. No, he wasn't going to do that.

Leorio was just about to continue walking up the stairs when he just made a stupid decision, turning around and being the nice guy he was. Sometimes he hated himself for being unable to be selfish. "If you have no problem with microwaved pizza, then could come with me, I guess". That was all it took for three pairs of feet to join him walking up the stairs, with Gon at his heels grinning and saying embarassing things. "Leorio's so nice! I think pizza sounds cool!".

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to invite three total strangers into his house, but they didn't seem anything close to dangerous – well, at least Gon wasn't. He lead them all the way to the house Leorio was currently renting, a proud silver plate on the white door announcing, 403. Leorio unlocked the door, and seized it open and was reminded of the cruel reality that his house was a total mess. Leorio considered himself to be quite a neat person, he just never had the time to clean his place – he was busy, alright?

Well, beggars can't be choosers, he thought to himself. They better keep quiet or Leorio's going to abruptly change his mind. He tossed the key onto the nearby table and quietly walked into the kitchen, doing a futile job at trying to ignore Kurapika's unnecessary comment on how he must never have been thought how to clean. He could shove them out, but he was just worried, for some reason. The kids were hungry, and they didn't have a place to stay, and Leorio's neighborhood was not always safe during the night. He was going to give them up, he decided, to the police the next day because everything about their small group screamed, _RUNAWAYS_ , in bold, capital letters. He took the frozen pizza out of his almost empty refrigerator and dumped it into the microwave oven, turning it on and punching in the settings before retreating to the living room.

It seemed that the three boys found themselves comfortable in Leorio's living room – too comfortable in Leorio's opinion. Someone had the television turned on, some random comedy show playing as the three teenagers found themselves seated on Leorio's couch. Gon had somehow made his way onto Leorio's bag of chips – how did he find it, anyway – and was currently staring at the telly wide-eyed and full of concentration.

Kurapika was sitting cross-legged on the couch, somehow getting his hand on one of Leorio's book on medication and reading it calmly as if it was his own. And Killua, he was grinning mischievously to himself, one of Leorio's indecent magazine in his hand – Leorio swore he had that magazine hidden somewhere unthinkable! Storming into the living room, Leorio snatched away the treasured magazine from the silver-haired boy, before deciding that his book in Kurapika's hand should receive the same fate.

He let Gon have the potato chip – he was probably really hungry, judging by the way he devoured the junk food as if he'd never eaten it his whole life. "Hey, I was reading that!" the two complained in unison, but with Killua's mention of the unnecessary 'old man' in his version. "Don't get too comfortable – I'm not as nice as I seem,"he muttered as he shoved the two reading materials – well, sort of – into the a drawer and started picking up his books and articles of clothing strewn all over the floor.

He heard two of the boys mumbling something under their breath, but decided to block them out in order to maintain his sanity. Seriously, how do their parents deal with these kids? He was only 19 and he already felt as if he'd aged ten years just by meeting them. He heard a soft click from the kitchen, and walked in quick strides towards the microwave oven before getting the recently warmed fast food onto a plate.

He retreated into the living room with four empty plates and a plate of hot pizza, and as soon as they were placed onto the small coffee table, they were gone, and all that's left for Leorio's hungry stomach was a small slice of pizza. Leorio sigh before taking a seat on the floor, and in the middle of biting into his meal when a voice put him into an abrupt halt. "May I have a piece of cutlery?" the polite voice asked, annoying the hell out of Leorio.

It wasn't the polite tone, Leorio decided, but he didn't know what annoyed him so much. Killua snorted from his spot on Leorio's couch, and Leorio considered telling the blond to take it by himself before deciding against it. He had a feeling that he was going to have to deal with nasty comments on hygiene if he ever let the blond get anywhere near his mess of a kitchen. He got up from his seat, shuffled into the kitchen before coming back into the living room with a piece of silverware in hand. He handed the piece of metal to the blond sitting on his sofa, before remarking, voice laced with sarcasm, "Anything else, _Your Highness_?".

Instead of being irritated like the way Leorio wished he did, Kurapika seemed to like being addressed like a royal, and he said with a playful smile, "No, but I'll tell you if I need anything". Leorio rolled his eyes and picked up his neglected food before ravishing it like a starving beast. He wouldn't usually eat this way, at least not in front of _guesses_ , anyway, but dealing with the three strangers really did leave him starving and tired. Luckily, no one commented about the way he ate, everyone was too busy enjoying their own meal to notice. "How long have you figured out your ability, Leorio?" Gon asked through a mouthful of food before being scolded, "Gon, please do not speak with your mouth full, it's disgusting". Gon swallowed his food before replying with a sheepish sorry.

"I discovered it when I was ten – wait, were you telling the truth about being like me? And that's why you didn't freak out?" Leorio asked, questions running wild in his head. Could it be that these kid could turn invisible too? That seemed farfetched – there was no way it was possible. "Yep! Believe it or not, there are people like us all around the world," Gon said, something Leorio couldn't place glinting in his eyes. Was it excitement? No, it was something else, something... Hope. That was it. It had been long since Leorio had seen it, a young man who still believed in happy endings. "You mean, you can turn invisible too?" he asked, not quite sure if these kids were just messing around with him or was telling the truth. They laughed, Leorio could feel his cheeks heating up as he barked an irritated, "What?!". Was he the one who sounded crazy? He didn't think so. "No, that's not it. I can regenerate, Killua can generate electricity, and Kurapika... Well, Kurapika could do what Kurapika could do".

Leorio raised his eyebrows, not knowing whether he should trust them, or turn them up to the nearest mental institution. Yet again, Leorio could conceal himself from being seen – that was proof enough that the odds aren't impossible. "Killua, show him!" Gon said, looking at his friend, wide-eyed and excited. Killua seemed to ponder on it for a second, before shrugging and raising a hand. Electrical current coursed through Killua's hand to his fingers before being thrown towards the dust bin sitting innocently at the corner of the room, effectively creating fire in just a few seconds. It took Leorio a few moment of pure dumbness before he find himself jumping onto his feet, muttering a string of curses as he made a dash towards the kitchen, filling water into a pail and returning into the living room in record time. He dumped the cold water onto the dust bin, watching the fire die away, leaving ashened pieces of what was once rubbish behind.

"What the hell was that for?!"he yelled, his vein filled with nothing but anger. The whole building could've been on fire for all he knew. Killua flashed him a mischievous smirk, folding his arms behind his head as he replied, nonchalant, "I was just proving you that we weren't lying". "Show off,"Kurapika muttered from his spot on Leorio's couch as he cut his slice of pizza into small, manageable pieces. "Well, that was unnecessary!" Leorio pointed out, messaging the sore spot on his forehead before heaving a sigh. Okay, so they're a group of kids with super powers. Cool. Now Leorio need to think about what he should do to them. Thoroughly. Even if they were annoying the hell out of him, for the first time in his 19 year old life, somebody understood him, weren't afraid of what he could do, and accepted him as he was. Even if they were three very annoying teenagers.

Leorio was snapped out of his train of thoughts when he heard an unfamiliar sound coming from somewhere on Leorio's sofa. Gon's tall figure was slumped on the couch, snoring as he slept, even in such a noisy environment. Leorio almost envied how the boy could sleep with such a surrounding, with people talking, both television and light turned on. For the ninth time of the day, Leorio sighed. What a group of troublemakers – no matter how hard dealing with them may be, he couldn't just shove them out of his place. He cared too much, for his own good. Leaving them as they were in his living room as a silent offer of shelter, Leorio retreated to his bedroom. Tomorrow, he'll decide what to do with them. But he was going to need a lot of rest before that, much energy was required in order to keep up with weird, superhuman kids who suddenly popped out of nowhere.

END OF CHAPTER.

 **There weren't much places introduced in the series so I hope the weird names of places I made up makes sense. Thank you for reading, and please review your thoughts on the story so far. Reviews are what kept me writing.**


	8. Chapter 6 : Bloodsmith

**A/N : It's been three weeks full of exam papers, but here I am! Never knew I would make it through alive. Anyway, this is actually where the plot starts - I never thought I'd take six chapters to set the stage for the characters, but well.. The first thing I saw when I surfed the internet for the first time in more than three weeks, the first thing I saw was the lovely reviews that encourages me to write more. So, thank you to the reviewers! You'll never know how much you mean to me.**

 **Replies to the reviewers :**

 **kateshelly2k - Oh, I am honored that someone would like my story enough to want to have it translated! Thank you so much, and FYI, I sent you a personal message just in case if you didn't notice. You have my permission, and thank you again!**

 **Saimiri - Thank you for reviewing! I see, I used to have trouble keeping up with aged-up characters too, but I guess I've been in this fandom long enough to get used to it. I'm just glad that you think I captured the characters well, because I've always been thinking that they're a bit OOC. So thanks for letting me know! Yeah, time manipulation is a cool ability, but don't worry, invisibility is a handy power too! And yes, Melody/Senritsu will appear soon, and I guess its obvious what her ability is. Thank you for making me feel as happy as I am! I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Suricata - Thanks for letting me know what you think about the story! I had some trouble coming up with an ability for Kurapika, I just can't seem to match him with an ability like I did to the others. I took a long time before deciding that I want him to have an ability that is affected by his emotions. Of course, gravitational manipulation is an awesome ability that didn't cross my mind when I was trying to figure out an ability for him XD Yeah, being able to phase through walls would most probably be handy. There were sometimes that I wish the walls would just cave in and swallow me - I'm the most awkward person on the planet. Thank you for taking your time to review and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

CHAPTER SIX : BLOODSMITH.

 _[Menchi, Zaban City, 2.30pm]_

Detective Sergeant Menchi rubbed at the temple of her forehead just as she felt a sharp pain slice through her head. Three crime scenes, and yet, she still wasn't able to find a single clue that could at least make her feel as if she was making progress. Five victims in total, and four of them had their heads cut open and brain nowhere to be found while one of them was stabbed with multiple kitchen appliances. The crime scene team was not only unable to find a single fingerprint, they could not even decide the weapon used to cut the heads open. The sound of a camera clicking and a flash of light flickering behind her made her turn her head towards a bald man dressed in a simple black shirt and a pair of dark brown trousers.

Heaving a sigh, Menchi wore the sourest expression she could muster and crossed her arms as she paced towards the young reporter. The bald young man looked up from his camera, and flashed her an innocent, almost unnerving smile. "Hey, Menchi!" he greeted casually. Menchi could not believe how he could be so casual, given that there was a man whose head was cut open in the same room. "It's _Detective_ Menchi to you!" she spat, not appreciating the fact that people keep forgetting to address her with the honorable title she'd worked so hard to achieve. "Didn't I tell you that you aren't allowed to be here? And how did you get pass all those police officers anyway?" she asked, annoyed and curious at the same time. It was not unusual that Hanzo was able to just suddenly appear out of nowhere at these crime scenes.

Hanzo's lips cracked into a wide grin and there was this look that Menchi couldn't place that crossed his face. "Hey, I told you didn't I? I have secret ninja skills!" the bald man said, covering his mouth and acting as if he was whispering, though his voice was loud enough that Menchi could say that even the dead man could hear his little secret. Menchi rolled her eyes and pinned her gaze on the dead body, the crime scene team was just beggining to take it to the forensics.

It was unbelievable, such a despicable act of murder – how can one kill three times and just get away with it? The police force didn't have the slightest idea about the methods of the killings and didn't even have any suspect to begin with, but the crime scene suggested that a supernatural method might have been used in this case. Menchi wouldn't have believed in anything that has to do with supernatural had she not visited the crime scenes. There was certainly nothing normal about the furniture that was strewn all over the room, most cracked and shattered while some was coated in dried blood.

It seemed that Hanzo has followed her gaze, and was now jotting something down on that notepad of his. "So, who is he?" he asked, voice now void of any playfulness he possessed just now. Menchi had no idea why, but he felt the urge to tell him – even if she knows that the stories he'll write will surely cause the public to panic and it will cause her nothing but trouble.

It might just be her, but there's something in the young reporter that convinces her that he was much more capable than he seemed. "Isaac Wilde, 26 years old, works as a teacher, is married to Hellen Wilde and has a daughter on the way. There's nothing suspicious about him, and there's nothing that could connect him and the other two victims," she said, looking at the notes at her hand even though she could remember the facts real well. She paused to look at Hanzo, who had his hand tucked under his chin in a thinking fashion and a serious expression on his face.

"The killing method is unidentified, his head is cut out and his brain is missing, not to mention that he is covered from top to toe in leaves that seemed to have _grown_ on him. Hanzo, if you write _those_ in your story, I will make sure you won't be able to hold a pen for a long time," Menchi said, finally realizing that she spoke too much, to a reporter, no less.

In contrast to his usual, talkative self, Hanzo kept quiet, and absent-mindedly nodded as he frowned to himself. Menchi felt a twitch on her face, and it was not long before something hard landed on Hanzo's shiny bald head. "Ouch! What was that for?!" Menchi walked away, shrugging coldly as she made her way out of the house, just to get some fresh air. Her head felt like it's going to explode anytime soon, and she would love to take some time to just stare at something that is not covered in blood.

She heard footsteps behind her, heavy and energetic, and didn't need to turn around to know that Hanzo was right behind her. "Hey, don't you think there's something weird about this Isaac Wilde?" the bald reporter brought up suddenly, looking around as if trying to make sure no one was about to hear their conversation. "What about him?" Menchi tried to feign annoyance, but anyone would be able to tell that she was curious about what Hanzo has to say.

Hanzo might not be the brightest, but that look in his eyes showed intelligence, something that even some members of the police force didn't have. "I mean, look at this place – it's full of all kinds of plants that will require skill and patience to grow. One would say that Mr. Wilde has a green thumb, but have you noticed that there wasn't a single gardening tool in this house?" He stated. Menchi was about to roll her eyes and say that it does not matter when she paused and considered it.

True, it is weird that this house was surrounded in greens yet wasn't equipped with any gardening tools, but what does it have to do with this case? It's certain that it was not the killer who planted all of these. However, taking the fact that plants seemed to grow on the body of Isaac Wilde to light, there _is_ something suspicious that needs her attention. "I think," Hanzo started, eyes pinned on a certain plant that Menchi swore she thought was extinct. "That Mr Wilde has a super power that could make plants grow and our killer is envious of this".

An awkward silence stretched between them, and it took Menchi a total sixty seconds to burst into a fit of laughter. What was he thinking? Super powers? Why would anyone have a power to make plants grow anyway? Hanzo stared down at her as if she'd grown a second head, and Menchi could not help but laugh harder. The last time someone was able to make her laugh _this_ hard was way before the first time she saw a dead body. It felt so good, just to take her mind off the case just for a while, and she would never admit that Hanzo was the one to make her laugh this hard.

"Seriously, Hanzo? No wonder that you became a reporter, your imagination is way too high!" she said, grinning like the happy woman she used to be. She really need an early retire. "Oh, so you think it's impossible that Mr Wilde has an exceptional ability, but you agree that our BloodSmith uses a supernatural method of killing?" the bald young man said, voice suddenly hushed even though no one was around. "BloodSmith?" she enquired, her face marred by a puzzled expression.

A proud smile stretched on Hanzo's lips, and he said while enthusiastically looking down at his notepad, "Yeah! That's the name I decided to give our mysterious serial killer since he won't be telling us his real name any time soon. Sounds great isn't it?". Menchi rolled her eyes for the third time of the day – how was she expected to deal with such a man? He might be a little too talkative for her taste, but what he'd just said was not to be overlooked. It might just make sense. Super powers, though? Sounds like something out of a comic book.

* * *

 _[Leorio Paladiknight,Leorio's apartment, 8.30 a.m.]_

The sound of distant chatter woke him up, and Leorio groaned before rubbing the grit out of his eyes. It's Sunday, and he had no classes – he wanted nothing more than to just sleep in late. But as he stirred from his sleep just enough to smell a suspiciously sweet scent of food, he forced himself awake, placing his legs underneath himself before hurrying out of the room to check if those kids were doing anything dangerous. Or weird.

He opened the door and walked towards the kitchen where three teenage boys sat, all covered up in white powder, which suspiciously looked like flour. "What are you doing?!" he shouted, confiscating the bowl filled with a sweet-smelling sticky batter in Gon's hands. The kitchen itself was a mess – even though it has always been _that_ – flour all over the floor and egg shells somehow found their way on to the kitchen counter. "Pancakes!" Gon replied, unaware of the rage that was boiling inside of Leorio.

Killua was throwing Leorio's kitchen knife around as if it was a toy, and it took everything in Leorio not to scold him about how it was dangerous. No, he was not going to make them think he's acting like an old man. "I told them that it was not a good idea," Kurapika said from behind the kitchen table, trying to get the flour out of his hair and failing. The blond heaved a sigh before giving up and started to brush the annoying white powder off his shirt instead.

Leorio placed the bowl on the table and craned his neck to see a pancake being cooked on the stove. Leorio didn't need to taste it to tell that it's way too dry. "Where did you get this much of flour anyway?" he asked as he eyed his surroundings warily, determined not to let those three get away without cleaning after their own mess. "The kitchen next door," Killua replied nonchalantly, and Leorio couldn't help but facepalm and making a mental note to somehow paying his poor neighbour.

"I have a question to ask you,"Leorio said, his voice now tense and his face serious. The three others stared at him, probably wondering what was it that made Leorio sound so serious. "Did the three of you run away from home?" he asked. The silence that enveloped the four teenagers was thick, and they wouldn't have looked so ridiculous if they weren't all covered in flour. They are most probably runaways, Leorio decided, but what could he possibly do about that?

He couldn't just leave them be, but now that he thought about it, reporting them wouldn't be the smartest idea either. They weren't just runaways, they were runaways with _superpowers_. What if they got mad that Leorio sold them out and killed him? It won't probably be so hard for Killua to kill him and make it look like an accident. Leorio shivered. No, now that he actually gave it a thought, they were dangerous, and he was not – his ability could only help him hide, but both Gon and Killua could sense him. He needed to be careful, one mistake could possibly lead to his death – he didn't want to die yet, he was too young and there were so many things he needed to settle.

"Nope. I asked for Mito-san's permission and she said OK!" Gon explained, taking Leorio by surprise. He didn't even consider that possibility – but wouldn't that be a good news? "Who's Mito-san?" Kurapika asked, absent-mindedly tucking a few strands of blond locks behind an ear. "She's my aunt! But I really think of her as my mother," Gon replied, grinning fondly at the mention of his aunt. The pancake was burning, so Leorio took it upon himself to get it off the pan.

Turning the stove off, he struggled to get the pancake on a plate as it was stuck on the frying pan like some stubborn chewing gum on your shoe. "How about the two of you, then?" he asked without looking back at the two in question, as Gon came to try and help him with the sticky pancake. There was another stretch of silence, though not as long as the one before, and Killua finally decided to break it, knowing that it would take forever for Kurapika to do so. "Yeah, I did".

Leorio turned his head so fast it almost hurt, and eyed Killua suspiciously to see if he was serious. The way Killua made it sound like, Leorio almost came to a conclusion that the silver-haired kid was just messing around, but the expression he wore suggested that he was serious. "If you dare do anything about that, old man, you're as good as dead," Killua threatened, with a Cheshire cat grin drawn on his lips and a pair of eyes that shone with a glint of playfulness. Leorio gulped. Killua might just be kidding, but something about the way he looked at Leorio, as if he was just another weak prey, kept Leorio on guard. "What about you, Kurapika?" Gon asked, as if unaware of the deadly threat that had just been passed to Leorio. The blond-haired boy looked away, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he admitted, "Yeah, I kind of ran away from home". That settles it. Two of them were runaways, but Leorio had no idea what to do about them.

It might be dangerous out there, but Leorio believed they can defend themselves – well, at least Killua obviously can. He needed to get them out of his apartment as soon as possible – Leorio might never admit it aloud, but he's really a soft-hearted man. He was afraid if he spend too much time with them, he'll grow attached to those three young men. It was after a few silent moments passed that Leorio heard a familiar chorus of a song blasting from somewhere in the living room.

Leorio walked across the kitchen and found himself in the living room after a few quick strides. Leorio cursed as he searched through a pile of mess for his cell phone – where the heck is that thing when you really need it? Leorio heard a soft clicking sound from behind him, just as the annoying ringtone died off, and froze as he heard a casual greeting from behind him that was clearly not sent his way. "Yo," Killua said, pressing Leorio's cheap mobile phone on his ear with a mischievous smirk carefully placed on his lips. Leorio scowled before getting back on his feet and snatching the cursed phone from Killua's grasp – he was pretty sure the latter intended on holding it a little longer, but decided against it as he saw the helpless expression on Leorio's face.

"Hello?" Leorio said, annoyance dripping from his voice. "Leorio? It's me, Pokkle. There's something I need you to help me with,"a smooth voice said from the other end of the line, laced with worry – worry for what, he can't decide. Leorio walked away from the three teenagers, towards a corner of the room before asking, "What is it, Pokkle?".

There was a pause on the line before Pokkle decided to clear his throat, admitting in a quiet voice, "Something bad is going to happen here in York New, and I need your help. No one else believes in me besides you and Ponzu and I need to find a certain boy who can supposedly save us". Leorio frowned to himself, he always hated it when people keep beating around the bush – Leorio has always been a straight-forward man, so why can't the others? "I don't get it,"he blurted, annoyed at how he couldn't get what Pokkle was getting on to.

There was a sigh at the end of the line, in which Leorio glanced back towards the other three teenagers at the sofa – they were minding their own business, not eavesdropping to Leorio's conversation, but he still needed to be careful, who knows if one of them had superhearing too? It's not that this conversation was a top secret, but Leorio didn't need any of them knowing that Leorio was talking to someone who could supposedly paint the future – they would probably want to meet Pokkle if they ever figured out.

"There's a serial killer out there who's going to get both you and me – you know what that means. They're trying to kill people like us, Leorio. And not just that, York New is also going to explode, but I don't know when. There's one particular boy I keep drawing, I don't know who he is, but I think he was supposed to stop the explosion," Pokkle explained, and Leorio could hear a faint voice in the background, probably Ponzu was trying to comfort him. Leorio found his mouth agape, looking like a total idiot as he tried to let those words sink.

"I'll be there, but it's going to take a while. I'm here at Triangle City, at the other end of the world. But I'll try to get there as soon as I can. Can you describe this boy? Maybe I'll try searching for him while I'm on the way there because he might just be anywhere in this world," Leorio said. Yep, that particular boy Pokkle was talking about could be anywhere in this world, and yet, they were expected to find him just before York New explodes?

Pokkle agreed, saying that he'll send Leorio a picture of one of his painting before hanging up. No one in this world might believe in Pokkle if he said he could predict the future just by painting, but Leorio knew by first hand experience that Pokkle's paintings are accurate. Pokkle made a drawing of Pietro dying even before he fell sick – that proves it all. And if York New was about to explode, and both Leorio and Pokkle was going to be killed by a serial murder, Leorio didn't think his classes matter anymore. He won't be able to become a rich doctor if he died first.

A few more seconds passed, adrenaline rushed through his veins in quick waves – was it excitement? No, it can't be. Fear then. A soft beeping sound notified Leorio of a WhatsApp message being sent his way, and Leorio took a while before opening it – damn his cheap mobile phone that keeps freezing for no reason at all. But when the photo finished downloading, Leorio held his breath and his heart almost stopped beating.

That wide, boyish grin, that spiky hair and that particular green sweater. It can't be – the picture was of the painting of an all too familliar boy and Leorio couldn't help but glance over at Gon. The dark-haired boy was laughing, grinning as he cracked a joke of his own. Can he really be expected to save York New? Leorio know nothing about that, but all he knew was that he needed to give it a shot and just bring him over to Pokkle. It might just be fate that Leorio ran into those three that night.

* * *

 _[Gon Freecs, Leorio's apartment, 9.25a.m.]_

"Yay!"Gon cheered as he fisted the air, grinning widely to himself. He couldn't actually believe that Leorio was going to help him find his father! After that weird phone call, Leorio started to ask him questions before deciding that he wanted to join Gon in his journey to find his father. Gon agreed immediately, anad Killua didn't seem to care – he probably just enjoy teasing Leorio that he didn't mind him tagging along.

But Kurapika was eyeing the aspiring doctor suspiciously, regarding him cautiously as he said, "I was pretty sure you were about to throw us out until you answer the phone. Mind telling us what made you change your mind?". Leorio scratched at the back of his neck as if he was feeling uncomfortable with the current situation, and he kept his silence for a while before deciding to break it. "You see, I have this friend, who needed some help. He's a comic artist – I'm pretty sure you've heard about ' _The End of The World_ '?".

There was a moment where the three teenagers did nothing but look at each other before Leorio found himself being urged to show them the comic book. The end of the world, it can't be a coincidence that they were supposed to find their answers at the end of the world. For a moment, Gon almost felt as if someone was playing games with him – it was all too weird that all of these happen to be a coincidence – but maybe he was just meant to find his destiny. Leorio came back from his room with a thick comic book, and Gon snatched it away before Leorio had the chance to say anything.

The image of a young boy decorated the cover, and the words ' _The End of The World_ ' was written in bold, dark red letter on top of the page. Gon turned into the first page of the comic book, the other three teenagers watching from behind his shoulders. At the top of the page was a panel that shows a man, tall and dark with round sunglasses on his face. The second panel was the image of a staircase, with three figures sitting on it. With a newfound curiousity, Gon turned the pages until he found a panel which consist of the main character covered in flour and admitting that he didn't run away from home.

"Leorio, didn't you notice that this story is almost as if predicting what's happening to us?" Gon inquired. It couldn't be a coincidence – as Gon continued to turn the pages, he started seeing the similarities that the four of them and the characters of the comic book shared. Leorio scratched at the back of his head and frowned before admitting, "Well, I have bought all of the chapters in this series, but I haven't had the time to read the last five chapters. I've been busy, okay?".

Gon handed to comic book for the others to inspect, and soon, the whole room was enveloped in a thick blanket of silence. Gon felt his heart beating fast – he was getting somewhere and he needed to meet Leorio's friend who wrote the story. He might be able to find his dad sooner than he'd anticipated. "Ok, according to this, we'll rent a car and start travelling south. The story ends there".

Everyone found themselves staring at Leorio, and the said man cleared his throat awkwardly before saying, "Don't look at me like that – I'm not the rich young man I look like". Gon looked back at the comic book, the last page was a huge panel showing a dark blue car gliding swiftly on the road, and there was a speech bubble at the top of the page which consinsts of the words, ' _York New, here we come!'_.

There's no mistaking it, the comic book could predict the future and it says that the four of them should rent a car. That's just what they're going to do. "Please, Leorio?" Gon persuaded the poor man, determined in getting a dark blue car. The other man shook his head and was about to say something when Killua cut him off, "I know how to get money". The three others stared at the smirking silver-haired boy, not convinced that Killua was suggesting a legal way of getting money. Gon wouldn't mind, though, at the moment all they really need was a car. Hopefully their journey towards York New would go smoothly.

END OF CHAPTER.

 **A/N : It feels good to have some mystery in the story. So, what do you think about this chapter? Follows/Favorites/Reviews are greatly appreciated! Until next time!**


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